Chemisty
by epierce123
Summary: What happens when you put two people together who hate each other? Chemistry.
1. Chapter 1: Rachel

Hey Readers! So I started a new story because I've hit a writers block in the other one. Anyway this story is much less angsty and way more fun to write. I will finish the other one, just fyi, but it may take me longer than anticipated.

With that said. Chapters labeled Rachel will be written in Rachel's POV and chapters labeled Quinn will be written in... you guessed it, Quinn's POV.

By the way, this is loosely based off the show. AKA it doesn't follow the show, but the characters, location, and some other things will be the same.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Rachel<strong>

Everyone knows I'm born for greatness. My life is perfect. My clothes are pricey. Even my family is perfect. Although it's all a complete lie, I've worked my butt off to keep up the appearance that I have it all together. The truth is, is that I'm not as confident as I've led people to believe. I fear that I will fail on Broadway, that I won't have the picture perfect ending to my life.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror while music blares from my bedroom, I wipe away the smudge under my eye. Starting senior year at McKinley High and seeing my boyfriend after a summer apart shouldn't be so nerve-racking, but the day has started off on a disastrous note. First, my alarm didn't go off. Then my all time favorite necklace broke so I couldn't wear it. Now, I've ruined my makeup and I look like I have raccoon eyes. If I had any choice, I'd skip the first day all together.

"Rachel darling, come down," I hear my daddy yelling from the bottom of the stairs.

My first instinct is to ignore him, but really. You can never ignore Hiram Berry. It's basically impossible.

"I'll be down in a sec," I call down, hoping to fix the disaster on my face.

Finally getting it right, I turn off my stereo, double check myself in the mirror, and hurry down the stairs.

"I made your favorite vegan muffin for the first day of school," My daddy says as he pulls out freshly baked muffins from the oven.

"Thanks daddy" I say, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. I take a seat at the table across from my dad whose reading the newspaper. He peers over the newspaper and winks at me.

"Hey, dad. How do I look?" I ask, smiling.

Neatly folding the newspaper, my dad takes a good hard look and smiles broadly. " You look like a Broadway star in the making, gorgeous!" I love that smile.

I giggle, "thanks dad". I finish my muffin and give my dad and my daddy a kiss on the cheek before walking to my car and driving off to school.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the next few months. I'm reminded of the pretense I've kept around my fathers every time I walk through those doors at McKinley high.


	2. Chapter 2: Quinn

**Chapter 2: Quinn**

"Get up, Quinn".

I scowl at my mother and bury my head under my pillow. With a mother like mine, there's no escape except the little privacy of a lone pillow.

"Leave me alone" I say roughly through the pillow. I don't want to go to school. Not ever.

"I'm not fucking around. Get up now or so help me. You are not going to be late for your first day of school".

Senior year. I should be proud that I actually made it. But after graduation, real life will start. College is a requirement. Senior year for me is like preparation for hell.

After a quick shower, I walk back into my bedroom and open my closet. I stop myself from thinking too hard about what to wear as I grab a summer dress and a plain cardigan to match.

Finally ready, I walk down the stairs to find my mother standing at the bottom of the staircase, scanning my outfit. I straighten. I know, I'm seventeen and shouldn't care about what my mother thinks. But you haven't lived in the Fabray household. My mother is a control freak and has anxiety. And not the kind that is easily controlled with little pills. And when my mom is stressed, then everyone in the house suffers. That's why my father leaves so early for work, so he doesn't have to deal with her.

"It's not summer and I hate that cardigan," she says.

"Good morning to you too, mother," I say pushing past her. I can smell her old lady perfume sting my nostrils, but she's dressed to the nines. No one can point a finger and criticize her outfit, that's for sure.

"I bought your favorite muffin for the first day of school" mother says, pulling out a muffin from a bag on the counter.

"Thanks". I wasn't willing to start a fight, so I just took it. Arguments are as pretty as a car wreck in my house, so avoiding them is crucial.

I glance at my watch, _shit. _It's ten after seven. My best friend, Santana, is going to kill me if I'm late picking her up. Grabbing my bag, I absently bite into the muffin in my hand while unlocking my car. Unfortunately it isn't blueberry, it's cinnamon raisin, and the raisins are all mushy. It reminds me of myself- seemingly perfect on the outside, but on the inside it's all just crap.


	3. Chapter 3: Rachel

**Chapter 3: Rachel **

As I'm driving to school, my gaze wanders to the picture of Finn and I taped to my dashboard.

Finn called a few times during the summer from his family's cabin where he was hanging out with his buddies. I don't know where our relationship stands now. He got back last night.

I drive into the high school parking lot with my mind more on my boyfriend and just life in general than on the road. My wheels screech to a stop when I almost hit a car tucked in behind a huge truck. I thought it was an empty parking space.

"Watch it, man hands," some girl in the passenger seat yells while flipping me off.

"sorry," I say. "it didn't look like anyone was in this spot"

Then I realize whose car I almost hit. The driver turns around. Angry hazel eyes. Perfect makeup to match. I sink down into the driver's seat as far as I can. "Oh shit, it's Quinn Fabray" I say, wincing.

Quinn is staring at me with her devil eyes. Is she going to confront me?

I search for reverse, frantically moving the gear stick back and forth. Quinn takes a step towards my car. My instincts tell me to abandon ship and run. I glance at onlookers, searching for help.

Finally grinding into reverse, my wheels screech loudly as I maneuver backward and search for another parking spot. I park in the south lot, far from certain popular students with the ability to crush my bones. Unfortunately, Quinn Fabray and her friends are hanging by the front doors.

I try to walk past them quickly, but it's hard when Quinn Fabray steps in front of me and blocks my path.

"You're a lousy driver," Quinn says.

She might look like a Disney princess with her perfect body and flawless face, but she is literally the devil in disguise.

The popular girls don't really ever talk to me. It's not that I think I'm better than them and not wanting to talk. It's the other way around. They hate me because of who I am.

Her gaze slowly moves down my body, her face distorted in disgust. "Who does your shopping, your dad's?" Laughs from her friends set my blood boiling.

"Who does yours, your grandma?" I say, admiring my own comeback even as my knees threaten to give out.

Quinn steps back and smirks, opening the door for me. She's basically saying, I'm going to kill you for that. I walk in, finally letting out the breath I must have been holding.

The bell rings. "Hey baby", a voice says from behind.

I turn around. It's Finn, brown hair perfectly sculpted and a grin so big it takes up almost his whole face. I wish I had a mirror to see if I looked okay. I run up and give him the biggest hug.

He holds me tightly, kisses me on the lips, and pulls back. "Ready for class?"

I smile up at him, "ready as I'll ever be."

Finn drapes his arm around my shoulders as the front doors to the school open. Quinn and her friends burst through as if they're royalty, which I guess they are.

My gaze briefly meets Quinn's and a shiver runs down my spine. "I almost hit Quinn Fabray's car this morning," I tell Finn once Quinn is out of hearing range.

"Yikes, that sounds bad. At least it would have been an exciting day. This school is boring."

Boring? I almost got in a car accident, was flipped off by Santana Lopez, and harassed by Quinn Fabray. If that was an indication of the rest of senior year, this school will be anything but boring.


	4. Chapter 4: Quinn

**Chapter 4: Quinn**

It's nothing new being in the principal's office. I just didn't expect to be there on the first day. I heard Sylvester was hired because she had a hard ass personality. Someone must've pegged me as the leader, cause it's me sitting here instead of another Cheerio.

So here I am, pulled out of English so Sylvester can ramble about the school rules. I detect her feeling me out, gauging my reactions, as she threatens, "…and just because I'm new here doesn't mean I don't know all the tricks in the book, I'll be watching you Lucy."

Her eyes focus on me, trying to intimidate. Yeah, right. She stands "I promised the school board that I'd personally be responsible for rooting out the bullying and violence that has plagued this school for years. I won't hesitate to suspend anyone who ignores the rules."

I haven't done anything today besides have a little fun with the diva and this lady is already talking suspension. She must've heard about my suspension from last year. That little incident got me kicked out for three days. It wasn't even my fault… entirely. Santana had mentioned to me that slushy doesn't come out of Louis Vuitton jackets. I was arguing with her at Kurt's locker, while she set up the trap. It would've worked too, but we were caught.

I had nothing to do with it but I got blamed. Santana attempted to tell the truth, but the principal at the time didn't care.

It's obvious Rachel Berry is the reason why I'm here. You think she'd ever be called into the office? No way. She walks around here trying to be perfect, going to class early, getting straight A's, and throwing diva fits.

One of these days…

I look up at Sylvester, "I'm not bullying anyone."

"That's good, but I heard you were harassing a student in the parking lot today."

Oh, so almost getting hit by Rachel Berry is _my _fault? For the past three years I've managed to avoid the princess bitch. Except for a few slushies…

"Care to share your side of the story?"

Not even worth it. I learned long ago that my side doesn't matter. I learned that best through my parents. "It was nothing, just a misunderstanding."

"Let's not make misunderstandings a habit around here, okay, Lucy?"

"Quinn."

"What?"

"I go by Quinn," I say. There's literally a file on the desk with notes about me, what an ass.

I get up to go. Forgetting completely where I need to be, I pull out my schedule out of my backpack, Chemistry with Mr. Schuester. Great, another hard- ass to deal with.


	5. Chapter 5: Rachel

**Chapter 5: Rachel**

I turn on my cell and call home before chemistry to see how my dad's doing. Daddy says he's fine, just unhappy right now. Ever since the crash, he hasn't been the same. Although he tries to keep his head held high around me, but I know when LeRoy Berry is happy and when he is sad. It's all in the eyes.

I should be focusing on school. Getting into NYADA is my main goal so I can become the star that my dad's and… well everyone else expects from me. After I tell daddy to give dad a kiss on the check, I take a deep breath, paste on a smile, and walk into class.

"Hey babe, saved you a seat," Finn motions to the stool next to him.

The room is arranged with rows of lab tables for two. Picking your seat is vital for this class. You're stuck with the person you sit next to for the entire year. I sit next to Finn, excited to do the dreaded senior chemistry project together. Feeling dumb for thinking things wouldn't be okay between us, slip my hand into his and smile.

"Hey! Fabrays in our class!" a cheerleader yells from the back of the class. "Quinn, sit next to us?"

I try not to stare as Quinn greets her friends. Her presence catches the eye of every student in the classroom.

Mr. Schuester closes the door to the classroom with a bang and all eyes go to the front. He has brown hair with an excessive amount of gel in it. He looks like he's in his mid twenties to late twenties, but he has a stern look on his face making him look older. I heard he's tough now because his first year the students made him cry.

"Good afternoon and welcome to senior chemistry." He stands in front of the class opening up a folder. "I appreciate your ability to pick your own seats, but I've made prior seating arrangements".

I groan along with the rest of the class. The teacher not missing a beat, stands in front of the first lab table and says, " Finn Hudson, take the first seat. Your partner is Tina Cohen-Chang.

Tina is a friend of mine and is in glee club with me. She flashes me an apologetic smile and takes a seat next to my boyfriend.

Down the list Mr. Schuester goes, students reluctantly moving to their assigned seats.

"Rachel Berry," pointing to the table behind Finn. I sit at my assigned place sighing.

"Lucy Fabray" Mr. Schuester says, pointing to the seat next to me.

_No. Oh my God. No no no. Quinn… my chemistry partner? For my entire senior year? NO! _I give Finn a "help me" look as I try to avoid the panic coursing through my body. I definitely should have stayed home.

"Call me Quinn. "

Mr. Schuester looks up from the list. "Quinn Fabray," he says before changing her name on the list. "I have a zero tolerance for any team related accessories in my class. It creates cliques and allows for exclusion and bullying behavior. Unfortunately for you Quinn, Ms. Sylvester backs my zero tolerance policy one hundred percent… do I make myself clear?"

Quinn stares him down before removing her Cheerios jacket, exposing her tanned shoulders.

Mr. Schuester continues with the class list while I do everything in my power not to make eye contact with the girl sitting next to me. It's too bad I've already taken my books out or I could pretend to search for them in my bag.

"This sucks," Quinn mumbles to herself. Her voice is dark and husky. Does she have something in her throat?

Mr. Schuester finishes assigning seats. " I know you seniors think you know everything. But you are not successful until you have helped mankind in some way or another. The field of chemistry plays a crucial role in developing medicines, treatments, radiation treat-"

Quinn raises her hand.

"Quinn," the teacher says. "Do you have a question?"

"Are you saying that we have to cure cancer to be a success?"

"What I am saying… is that you should use skills to help mankind, whether curing cancer or helping others find happiness."

"Now," Mr. Schuester says, "look at the person sitting next to you."

_No, not that. _But I don't have a choice. I glance over at Finn who seems content with his assigned lab partner. Tina already has a boyfriend or I seriously would be questioning why she's leaning a bit too close to Finn. I tell myself I'm being paranoid.

"You do not have to like your partner, but you are stuck with each other for the next ten months. Take a few minutes to get to know each other. Then you will each introduce your partner to the class," Mr. Schuester says.

I take out my notebook, flip to the first page, and shove it towards Quinn. "Why don't you write down stuff about yourself and I'll do the same for you."

Quinn nods in agreement, although I think I caught the corners of her mouth twitch as she reaches for her pen. Taking a breath, I focus and write diligently until the teacher asks us to stop.

"This is Tina Cohen-Chang," Finn begins. But I don't hear the rest of Finn's speech about Tina. Instead, I glance down at the piece of paper given back to me by Quinn and stare at the words with my mouth open.


	6. Chapter 6: Quinn

**Chapter 6: Quinn**

Okay, so I shouldn't have fucked with her on the introduction thing. Writing nothing but, _Saturday night. You and me. Driving lessons and hot lesbian sex… _in her notebook was not the smartest move. But I had an itch that was begging to be scratched. Making little miss diva stumble in her introduction sounded too fun to pass up.

"Miss Berry?"

I watched in amusement as miss perfection herself looks up at Mr. Schue. Oh, she's good. This partner of mine knows how to hide her true emotions, something I know all too well about.

"Yes?" Rachel says, tilting her head and smiling brightly.

I wonder if that smile has gotten her out of a speeding ticket, or any ticket having to with a car.

"It's your turn to introduce Quinn to the class."

I lean my elbow on the lab table, waiting for an introduction. She glances over at me and I can tell that I've stumped her.

"This is Lucy Fabray," she starts, her voice catching the slightest. My temper flares at the mention of my given name, but I keep a cool façade as she continues.

"When she wasn't hanging out on street corners making a few bucks this summer, she toured the sex stores around Ohio. And she has a secret that nobody would ever guess."

The room grows silent. Even Mr. Schue straightens to attention. Hell, even I'm listening to the words coming out of Rachel's lying mouth.

"Her secret desire," she continues, "is to become an actress in a porno."

I steal a glance at my friend Santana, who seems amused that this girl isn't afraid of tarnishing my reputation in front of the entire class.

Rachel flashes a triumphant smile, thinking she's won. _In your dreams, babe. _

I sit up in my chair while the class remains silent. "This is Rachel Berry," I say, all eyes focus in on me. "This summer, she went to New York, auditioned for plays, failed miserably, and spent her gay father's money on fixing her, _ahem, _nose."

It might not be what she wrote, but it was closer to the truth than her introduction of me.

Chuckles come from the back of the class, and Rachel goes as stiff as a board, as if my words hurt her precious little ego. Rachel Berry is used to people fawning over her perfect voice and perfect body. It was time for a wake up call. I'm doing her a favor. Which is why I continue, "Her secret desire," getting the same reaction she did during her introduction, "is to date a girl before she graduates."

As expected, my words are met by comments and laughter in the back of the room.

"Get it Fabray," my friend Puck calls out.

"I'll date you, baby." Another says.

I give a high five to a friend named Zizes just as I catch Brittany shaking her head as if _I _did something wrong.

Rachel's gaze shifts from Finn to me. I take one look at Finn and my eyes tell him _game on. _Finn's face immediately turns red.

"Quiet down class," Mr. Schue says. "Thank you for those… enlightening introductions. Miss Berry and Miss Fabray, please see me after class."

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><p>"Your introductions were appalling, disrespectful, and distasteful," Schuester says after class as Rachel and I stand in front of his desk. "You have a choice." Our teacher holds out two blue detention slips in one hand and in the other, two pieces of notebook paper. "You can either go to detention after school today or write a five-hundred word essay on respect to turn in for tomorrow. Which is it?"<p>

I reach over for the detention slip. Keeps me away from the house longer. Rachel takes the notebook paper. Figures.

"Listen, I understand that you two do not get along but I will not be reassigning partners. You are both seniors and will have to deal with many people with personalities that will not match yours after you graduate. If you don't want to go to summer school, I suggest you work out your differences and work together."

With that, I follow my little chem partner out of the room down the hall. Before going our separate ways I lean over to her and whisper, "see you on Saturday night." I usually don't mess with straight girls, but this one was fun to rattle. This one actually cares.

"Listen, Quinn," she says, whipping her hair over her shoulder, revealing her perfectly tanned neck. She faces me with her eyes boring into me. " I don't date girls, and I don't affiliate with those who use drugs and drink alcohol."

I step closer to her, " I don't drink nor do I use drugs. But the girls…" I smirk, "I don't kiss and tell babe."

"Yeah, right. I'm surprised your parents haven't dumped you into rehab."

"You think you know me?"

"I know enough." She folds her arms across her chest and looks down.

"You're afraid of me." It's not a question. I just want to hear from her what her reasoning is.

"Most people at this school are scared that if they look at you the wrong way, you'll cut them."

"Then why aren't you running?'

"Give me the chance, and I will."

I've had enough of this bitch. It's time I end this with the upper hand. I close the distance between us and whisper in her ear, " Face the facts. You think you're something special. You probably lie awake at night, fantasizing about a better life than this one." Damn it. I get a whiff of vanilla from her perfume. It reminds me of homemade cookies. I love cookies. "Just because I'm broken, doesn't necessarily mean you'll get cut."

"Get the hell away from her," Finn's voice rings out. His fists clench. Like he'll hit a girl. No offense either, but Finn is like this roundish teddy bear with two left feet.

"Finn," Rachel says. "It's okay, I can handle this."

Other students are starting to gather around us, leaving room for a fight. Little do they know that teddy bear is a runner.

"Finn, she's not worth it. And you'd never hit a girl anyway… right?'

_Thanks babe, right back at you._

"C'mon Fabray" Finn yells, ignoring his girlfriend.

Rachel puts herself in front of Finn and puts her hand on his chest. "She's mine. Don't ever forget that," Finn barks.

"Then keep a leash on her," I advise. "Or she might be tempted to find a new owner." I look at her, "See you later, babe. I'm looking forward to Saturday" I wink and walk away.


	7. Chapter 7: Rachel

Hey readers! I'm so glad you're liking it so far. Wouldn't want to get your hopes up though. The Saturday night rendezvous doesn't happen... at least not yet :P

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Rachel <strong>

After school I'm at my locker when my friends Blaine, Tina, and Sam come up to me.

Blaine hugs me. "Oh my god, are you okay?" he asks, examining me.

"I heard Finn protected you. He's amazing. You're so lucky, Rach," Tina says.

"It wasn't a big deal," I say, wondering what the rumor mill had made this time.

"You guys better not be late for glee," Mercedes yells from the end of the hallway. As quickly as she appeared, she's gone.

I close my locker and we head over to glee. When we reach the classroom, our entire club is sitting on the chairs waiting for Mr. Ryerson. Thank goodness we're not late.

"I still can't believe you got stuck with Quinn Fabray," Tina whispers to me as I take a seat next to her.

"Wanna switch partners?" I ask even though Mr. Schuester would never allow it.

Tina cringes, "No way in hell. I'd never hang out with devil by choice."

"You are in big trouble," My best friend Kurt interrupts.

"Why?"

Kurt has always been the eyes and ears of the school. He knows everything going on at McKinley high. "Rumor has it Kitty Wilde is looking for you."

_Shit. _Kitty Wilde is Quinn's girlfriend. I'm trying not to freak out, but Kitty is tough. From her perfectly manicured nails all the way down to her stiletto-heeled boots. Is she jealous I'm Quinn's chem partner?

Kitty Wilde could kick my butt any day of the week. She probably practices with witchcraft and throwing knives. Call me crazy but somehow I doubt singing scales will scare off a girl like Kitty.

Most people think nothing bothers me. I'm not going to start letting them know that something does. I've worked much too hard and long to keep up this façade and I'm not about to lose it all because some stupid cheerio and her girlfriend are testing me.

"I'm not worried about it," I tell Kurt.

My best friend shakes his head. "I know you, Rach. You're worried," he whispers.

Now that worries me more than the idea of Kitty looking for me. Because I try really hard to keep everyone at a distance, not really letting anyone know what it's like to be Rachel Berry. But I've let Kurt know more about me than anyone else. I wonder if I should back off from our friendship, just to make sure he's kept at arms' length away.

Now logically, I'm being paranoid. Kurt is a great friend. He let me cry about my daddy's accident but never revealed the reasoning for my breakdown. He let me cry it all out, even when I refused to give any details.

Mr. Ryerson walks into the classroom looking a little frantic. I glance over at everyone, "uh Mr Rye, I was just talking with my friends, and we were thinking it'd be a good idea to split up in groups and work on songs for regionals. We've got a pretty good shot this year." It's music that pulls me in. Music makes me forget about all my problems, it's my drug, the one thing that can make me numb.

Mr. Ryerson smiles broadly, obviously relieved about my suggestion. "Great idea, Rachel. Partner with someone you haven't before. Rachel, I'd like you to partner with one of the new members. Just so they know how things work."

I look around the room and I see Brittany Pierce staring right at me. I shrink down in my seat, but relax when I see she's smiling. She comes over to me and takes a seat. "Want to be partners?" she asks with a smile.

"Uhm, sure."

She smiles again, "Don't worry about Kitty," she says. "Most of the time her bark is worse than her bite."

"Thanks," I say. Brittany looks… nice. She's has kind eyes and smiles a lot. Her smile makes you forget what group she belongs to. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" I cask.

She nods.

"You know Quinn Fabray?"

She nods again.

"Are the rumors about her true?" I ask carefully, not knowing how she'll react. If I'm not careful, I'll be added to their hit list. _As if I'm not already there. _

Brittany smirks, "depends on which ones you're referring to." As I'm about to list the rumors off the top of my head she interrupts my train of thought, "listen Rachel," she says. " You and me, we'll probably never be friends. That's the harsh reality we live in. But I have to tell you, no matter how much of a jerk Quinn was to you today; she's not as bad as the rumors say. She's not even as bad as she'd like to think she is."

Before I can respond, Brittany surprises me once again, "So, I was thinking we could sing Cool Kids by Echosmith. It's a super in song right now and I can't seem to get it out of my head. Cool?"

About an hour into glee, when our voices are starting to get scratchy and we're all running on exhaustion, we're dismissed. I make a point to compliment Brittany today on her first day of glee.

"Really?" she asks, looking genuinely happy.

"Your voice is fantastic. And your dance moves!" I gush. It's true too. For a girl who has never showed interest in glee, I'm extremely impressed. "I'm glad you said yes to choreographing our number for regionals. It's going to be great!"

She smiles broadly. I wonder if she believes the rumors about me. It's true, we'll probably never be friends. But I can tell we'll never be enemies, either.

After practice I walk to my car with Kurt, who hasn't stopped texting his boyfriend, Blaine.

A piece of paper is tucked under my windshield wipers. I pull it off. It's Quinn's detention slip. Crumbling it up, I shove it in my bag.

Kurt looks up, "what was that?"

"Nothing," I say. Hoping he'll get the hint to leave it.

"Mkay. Blaine invited us to Lima Bean."

I look at my watch. It's almost five and I want to get home to my dad's to help. "I can't."

As I dangle my keys on my fingers, Kurt tells me he'll get a ride from Blaine. So I'm alone for the drive home. I like being alone. Nobody to put on an act for. I can even blast the music if I wanted. Which I do.

Enjoying the music is short-lived though, when I feel my phone vibrate. I pull out my cell, "Hey".

"Rach, where are you?" he asks.

"On my way home."

"Come to Lima Bean with us."

"I can't. My dad's need help with dinner," I explain. "I have to help them out."

"Seriously?" he pauses. "Are you still mad that I threatened your lesbian chemistry partner?"

"I'm not angry. I'm annoyed. I told you that I could handle it and you blatantly ignored me. And you caused a whole scene in the hallway. You know I didn't ask to be paired with her," I tell Finn.

"I know Rach. I'm sorry, I just hate that girl. Don't be mad."

"I'm not," I say. " I just hate you seeing you get riled up for nothing".

"And I hated seeing her whisper in your ear."

I silently groan. My head is beginning to pound. I don't need Finn to make a scene every time someone talks to me. Ever since I told him that I don't put a label on my sexuality, he's been on possessive boyfriend mode. "Let's just forget about it."

"Fine by me. Call me tonight. If you can get out of the house, come by my place."

When I get home, I see my Daddy trying to help my dad get back into his wheelchair. I can tell my Daddy is struggling.

"I'll do it," I tell my daddy, taking over. I've been helping my dad in and out of the wheelchair since he got it. If you do it just right, it really doesn't strain any of your muscles. It's all about the legs.

My dad gives me a sad smile. "Hi darling, how was school?"

I kiss his cheek, "It was okay."

My daddy gives me a hug, "you hungry for dinner," he asks. "I've made squash risotto."

Yum. My daddy could be a chef if he wanted to. He makes the best vegan meals. I sit with my dad in the living room while my daddy gets dinner ready. My dad looks at me, a sad expression settled on his face.

"Hard day?" I ask quietly.

My dad shakes his head. He doesn't want to talk about it. I can tell by the way his brows stitch together and by the way he tenses his mouth.

"Be patient," I beg him. "It's not easy for daddy either. We love you."

He nods his head and gives me a halfhearted smile.

When dinner is ready, I wheel my dad to the table. When we're done, I clean up the dishes and begin my homework.

At nine, Mercedes calls to complain about Tina. She thinks that Tina has changed over the summer and now has a big ego. At nine thirty, Tina calls to say that she suspects that Mercedes is jealous of her. At nine forty five Kurt calls and says that Tina and Mercedes have called him and he doesn't want to get in the middle of it. I agree, but I think it's a little too late for that.

It's about ten fifty before I finish my respect paper for Mr. Schuester and help my daddy put dad to bed. I'm so exhausted, I feel like I could collapse. I flop onto my bed and dial Finn's number.

"Hey sweetie," he says. I cringe. I hate that nickname, but he insists on calling me that. I told him that it reminds me of an old lady saying it to some little girl. "What're you up to?"

"Not much. I'm in bed. Have fun with the boys?"

"Not as much fun as I would've if you were there," he pauses. "I'm glad you called".

I pull the blankets over me and cuddle into my body pillow. "Oh, really? Why?" my voice turning flirty.

Finn hasn't told me he loves me in a long time. I know he's not the most affectionate person, but I need to hear it from him. I want to hear it. I want to hear that he missed me and I want him to say I'm the girl of his dreams.

Finn clears his throat. "We've never had phone sex."

I really shouldn't be surprised or even disappointed. It was just like him. He's a teenage boy, and I know all boys are so focused on sex and fooling around. This afternoon I pushed away the feeling in the pit of my stomach when I read Quinn's words about having hot lesbian sex. Little does she know I'm a virgin.

Finn and I have never had sex. We were close last year, but I chickened out. I wasn't ready.

"Phone sex?"

"Yeah… touch your self sweetie. Tell me what you're doing. It'll totally turn me on." I cringe. There it is again. _Sweetie. _

I stay silent.

"C'mon Rachel," Finn says. "Think of it as practice for the real thing."

"Finn…" I sigh. "Sorry, I'm just not into it… right now" I quickly add.

"You sure?"

"Yeah… are you mad?"

"No," he says. "I just thought we could spice up our love life, ya know?"

"I didn't know we were boring…"

"It's just… school, football… same old routine. I guess after the summer away, I'm sick of the same old routine. I want something to get my heart racing."

"Sounds great."

"It was, Rach?"

"Yeah."

"I'm ready for that heart racing feeling, that adrenaline rush…with you."


	8. Chapter 8: Quinn

**Chapter 8: Quinn**

I push the guy up against this sweet shiny black Porsche, one that costs way more than my BMW. "Here's the deal, Karofsky,," I say. "You either pay now, or I break something of yours. Something you're permanently attached to," I glance down to his microscopic package. "Got it?"

Karofsky, huge football player but as pale as a ghost, is looking at me like I've handed him a death sentence. He should have thought about that before he took on the Unholy Trinity and bounced without paying.

As if Roz would ever let that happen.

As if I would ever let that happen.

When Roz sends me to collect, I do it. I may not like doing it, but I do it. She knows I won't break into people's homes or work the streets. But I collect. I'm good at it.

To say I don't live a squeaky clean life puts it nicely. It's true I'm no user nor do I drink, but that doesn't mean I don't sell. The thing is, is I'm good at it. I'm good at scaring people. So when Roz Washington, head coach of the cheerios came up to me freshman year and gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. I took it. In reality, I'm a pawn in the whole scheme of things. The entire cheerios squad are pieces of a chess game that Roz controls. If you think about it, it's a brilliant set up. We do all the dirty work, and Roz sits on her throne of money.

You can't imagine the type of people I break down. Karofsky is no different than the other guys I've threatened. I can tell by the way he tries to act cool at school while his hands shake from withdrawals.

"I don't have the money," he blurts out.

"That answer doesn't cut it," San interjects. She likes coming with me. She thinks it's like playing good cop bad cop. Truthfully, I'm not as ruthless as I make myself out to be. And San. She's not as bitchy as everyone thinks. It's an act. It works for us.

"Which limb should I break first?" I ask. "I'll be nice, I'll let you choose."

"Took too long. Smoke his sorry ass, Q. I'm getting bored." Santana says lazily.

"No!" Karofsky begs. "I'll get the money. I swear, I'll get it. Tomorrow. Just give me tomorrow."

I shove him hard against the car and press a knife to his package. "You," I spit out. "Do not give me orders. I need collateral." I eye his car.

"No...not the car, please Quinn."

I take out my gun. I'm not going to shoot him. No matter what I've become, I'd never kill anyone. But Karofsky doesn't know that.

At first glance, Davie boy tosses the keys to San. "Tomorrow Karofsky. Seven o'clock behind the old tracks on Irvine and tenth. Now get out, before I change my mind."

** "**I've always wanted a Porsche," San says after Dave's left.

I laugh. "It's yours until tomorrow."

We drive back to school. Walk around back and walk into coach's office. We give Roz the update. She's not happy.

* * *

><p>I walk into an empty house. Surprise. I peak into the fridge and find leftovers. As the foods heating up in the microwave, I pull out my homework. I'm interrupted with my mother walking through the front door.<p>

"Quinn?"

"In the kitchen," I yell.

"Here, this is for you," she tosses a bag at me.

I reach into the bag and pull out a light blue designer top. "Thanks," I say, not making a big deal about it.

"It'll go well with those new dark denims I bought you last week," she says as she pulls out frozen steak and starts defrosting it in the microwave.

My dad walks through the door a minute later, grumbling about work. I'm not really quite sure what he does, but he owns a car company. Hence the new BMW that sits in the driveway with my name on it.

"What's for dinner?" my dad asks. He looks tired. "I'm not in the mood for anything heavy. Just something light" he continues walking to his office. Work always follows him home.

My mother turns off the microwave. "Eggs? Soup?" she says listing off suggestions that go unheard.

"Whatever, something light!" he calls out.

It's times like these where I feel sorry for my mother. She doesn't get much attention from my dad. He's either working or on a business trip. Or more recently, just not interested in hanging out with his family. "I'll make a salad," I tell her.

She seems thankful. We work side by side in silence. I set the table while my mother mumbles complaints to herself.

"I'm going to France on Friday for two weeks," my dad announces. "Our supplier there is upset and I've got to go find out what his deal is."

"What about the annual church get together?"

My dad drops his fork and looks at my mother. "Yeah, because the stupid church gathering is more important than keeping my business afloat."

"That's not was I was insinuating, Russell. I'm just saying that we've already RSVP'd for it."

"You can go by yourself."

"I will not go by myself and have rumors start because you're not accompanying me."

This is typical Fabray dinner conversation. My dad talks about how hard work is, my mother keeping up the pretense that we're a happy family, and me quiet on the sidelines.

I get up, "I've got homework to do" I mumble while I trudge up the stairs to my room. At night, I'm in my room unable to sleep because of the constant yelling from my parents. I wish that I was fighting for something worth fighting for. Instead, I'm lying in bed, covering my ears, and fighting for the night to end.

* * *

><p>A week later, I'm sitting on the bleachers at my school stadium eating lunch. Most of the students eat outside until late October, when winter forces us to sit in a stuffy cafeteria during the lunch period. Right now, I'm soaking up as much of the sun as I can.<p>

My friend Lauren Zizes comes and sits by me. "You ready for next period? I swear Rachel Berry hates you like a disease. It's hilarious watching her try to sit as far away from you as possible."

"Zizes," I say. "She might be one hot babe, but she ain't got nothing on this girl." I point to myself.

She laughs "tell Finn Hudson that."

I lean back, resting my eyes for a second. "I've seen Finn play football, believe me. He's got nothing to brag about."

One look at little miss diva and my defenses go up. She thinks I'm this drugged up bitch. Everyday, I've dreaded having to deal with her scrutiny in class.

"I heard your girl, Rach, was talking trash about you and your friends."

I shake my head, wondering what Rachel had said and how much damage control I'll have to do. "Maybe she wants me and doesn't know any other way to get my attention."

Zizes laughs so hard the entire bleacher is shaking. "There's no way that Rachel Berry would get within two feet of you on her own free will, let alone date you," she says. "Hell, I'll bet my 1976 Honda CB750 K you can't get into her pants before Thanksgiving break," Zizes challenges me.

Do I need to state the obvious? "She's straight… and a bitch." I'm not into straight girls. And I'm certainly not into egotistical chicks whose idea of a conversation revolves around them.

"So what if she's straight? Come on, Quinn. You've done it before. Don't be an idiot. _Look _at her. I'm not even gay and I'd still hit that."

I take a glance. I admit she's got it going on. Long shiny brunette hair, tanned arms with a hint of muscles in her biceps making you wonder if she works out, full lips that when she smiles you think world peace is possible, and those legs. _Shit. _

I shove those thoughts out of my mind. "Her nose," I blurt out.

Zizes smirks "you want her," leaning back on her arms. "You just know that you can't have her."

Something inside me clicks. Call it my ego or my cockiness. I don't care. "In two months I could have that ass. You want to bet me your bike, I'm in."

"You're kidding!" When I don't answer, Zizes frowns. "You serious, Quinn?"

"Yup."

She shrugs, "if you lose I get your new ride," her frown turning into a wicked grin.

The new BMW my parents bought me. They'll kill me if give it up. But I hate the piece of junk. I mean, I guess it's not really junk. I just hate the looks I get when I drive in it. But for real, my parents would kill me.

Zizes is not backing down. The problem is, I'm not one to back down either. Not ever.

I look over at Rachel, flirting it up with her pathetic lug of a boyfriend. I bet all it'll take for Rachel to come around is a bit of flirting. I could kill two birds with one stone, get back at the bear by taking his girl and get back at Rachel Berry for having me called to the principal's office and dissing me in front of my friends.

This might even be fun.

I hold out my hand. "Deal."

"I want proof."

I sigh. "Zizes, what do you want me to do? Take her panties?"

"How'd we know it was hers?" Zizes shoots back. "Take a picture."

How trashy. It's times like these that give us a bad name. But to be honest, my friends are entertaining when they're ragging on someone else. When they rag on me, I don't find it half as funny.

"What are you talking about?" Santana says, joining us.

"I bet Quinn my baby for her car she can't get into Rachel Berry's pants by Thanksgiving."

** "**You loco, Quinn?" San says. "Making a bet like that is suicide. You know your parents."

"Shut up San." It isn't suicide. Stupid, yes. But not suicide. If I could handle hot headed Kitty Wilde, I can handle diva princess Rachel Berry.

"She's out of your league. You might be pretty as hell, but you're messing with a straight gal. That never works, amiga."

I'm not listening anymore. My eye is on Rachel. Now that it's game on, I'm focusing on the prize. It's time to start flirting, but no bullshit one liners. I have a feeling that's what she gets from her airheaded boyfriend.

I decided on a new tactic. I'm going to keep getting under skin until I'm all she thinks about. And I'll start next period when she's forced to sit next to me. Nothings more satisfying than a little foreplay in chemistry.

I walk to chemistry and slide onto the stool, pushing my stool closer to the middle of the table.

Rachel walks into the room, her tousled hair, but in a good way, falling down the front of her chest. She shouldn't turn me on as much as she does.

I wink at her when she looks my way. She huffs and pulls her stool as far away as possible from me. I turn towards her. "You're going to have to talk to me at some point."

"What? So your girlfriend can have a reason to beat me up. No thank you."

"I don't have a girlfriend. Want to interview for the position?" I scan her from top to bottom, focusing on the area where the clothing isn't covering.

She glares at me and tightens her lips. "Not in this lifetime."

"Baby… you wouldn't know what to do with all this," I point to myself. "In your hands," I smirk.

_That's right, Quinn. Tease her into wanting you. _

"You're pathetic."

"What if I said we'd make a great couple?"

"I'd say you were a moron."


	9. Chapter 9: Rachel

**Chapter 9: Rachel**

Right after I call Quinn a moron, Mr. Schuester calls the class to attention. "You and your partner will pick a project from this hat," he announces. "They are equally as challenging and will require meeting with your partner outside of class," he says glancing at Quinn and I.

"What about football?" Finn asks.

"School comes first. It's up to you and your partner to find a time that works for _both _of you."

"Yo, Mr. Schue… is one of them curing idiocy," she asks with a stupid grin on her face. "Cause I don't think there's enough time in this life to cure Finn." Finn glares at Quinn and the teacher just ignores both of them.

I can see that big fat F on my report card right now. NYADA would not be pleased, nor would they care that my partner was a complete imbecile. The thought of Quinn controlling the grade I receive in class is overwhelming me. If I want to succeed and make my dad's proud, I need to get at least a B+.

I reach into the hat and pull out a slip of paper. I open it while biting my lip in anticipation. In bold letters I see HAND WARMERS.

"Hand warmers?" I ask.

Quinn leans over and reads the paper with a confused look on her face. "What the fuck are hand warmers?"

Mr. Schuester shoots Quinn a warning glare. "If you'd like to stay after school, I have another detention slip on my desk with your name on it. Now, ask the question again without the foul language or join me for a lovely afternoon in my classroom."

"That'd be awesome hanging with you Mr. Schue, but I'd rather spend time studying with my chem partner," she responds, and then smirks at Finn. "I'll rephrase. What are hand warmers, you kind individual who knows all about science."

"Thermal Chemistry, Miss Fabray. We use them to warm our hands. Hence the name… hand _warmers. _The sass is real in Mr. Schuester. I stifle my laugh.

Quinn gets a huge grin on her face and turns to me. "I bet we can find other things to warm."

"I hate you." I say loud enough for Finn and the rest of the class to hear. I know the class is watching, even Brittany. I don't know what she sees in her. Can't she see her for what she is, or is she blinded by her perfect body and model like face.

Quinn leans in and whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate. Maybe you're confusing your emotions."

I scoot away from her. "I wouldn't bet on it."

The class refocuses on the teacher. He continues his lecture, out of boredom, I lean back. _Oh shit, _I forgot there's no back to my chair. But as I'm falling, I feel arms catch me. Unfortunately, I've spilled my water all over her pants. She smirks, "couldn't wait to get me wet, eh?"

Ugh. "You're disgusting," I say a little too loudly.

"Miss Fabray and Miss Berry, I'd like both of you to pick up your things and go." _What? _

Scowling, I slowly pick up my things.

"What if we refuse?" I glance over at Quinn who has a bored expression on her face.

"Quinn, don't test me. I have zero tolerance for this kind of disrespect. Do you want a suspension?"

She smirks, stands up and grabs her bag.

Someone yells, "Oh My God, did you piss yourself!?" at the sight of water stain on her jeans. The class starts laughing.

Finn laughs the hardest. "Don't sweat it Quinn. My grandparents have extra depends."

Quinn sports a big smile and says to Finn, "Your girlfriend couldn't keep her hands out of my pants. She was showing me a whole new definition of hand warmers."

This time she had gone too far. I stand up, my stool falling to the ground. "You wish," I say.

Quinn is about to say something when Mr. Schuester yells, "Quinn! Go to the nurse's office to get a change of clothes because afterward you'll be seeing Ms. Sylvester. I'll meet you in her office with your friends Finn and Rachel."

Quinn grabs her books and exits the classroom. I follow shortly after, even when I give Mr. Schuester my best puppy dog eyes.


	10. Chapter 10: Quinn

**Chapter 10: Quinn**

Oh this is just perfect. Mr. Schue and Ms. Sylvester on one side of the office, little miss diva and her dickhead boyfriend on the other… and me standing by myself. Nobody is on my side, that's for sure.

Sylvester speaks up. "Quinn, this is the second time in two weeks you're in my office. Care to elaborate as to why?"

Wow. Great observation. Clearly you are in the wrong professional field.

"Ma'am," I say, glancing over at the little diva. "There was a mishap in Chemistry today. I was just trying to be gallant and help Miss Berry from falling out of her chair. When she spilled water on my pants. Instead of getting angry about it, I made a joke. " I turn to Mr. Schue, " I wouldn't want a little spilled water to ruin the fun I was having listening to your _brilliant _lecture."

"Don't insult my lectures, Quinn," Schue says. " I've had it up to here with your antics," he says, while his hand waves around. Mr. Schue turns his attention to Rachel and Finn. If he thinks that I'm going to let them bitch at me, then he's got another thing coming.

"And don't you think you two are any better," he says.

Rachel looks stunned at the scolding. I smile.

"I can't be partners with her," Rachel blurts out.

Finn cuts in, "She can partner with me and Tina."

I almost smile when I see Mr. Schue's eye narrow. "And what makes you two so special you think you can change my class structure?" Dayummmm Mr. S, you go boy.

"William, I'll take it from here," Sylvester says to Mr. Schue. " Mr. Schuester and I are on the same page. In light of that… Quinn stop provoking Rachel." Mr. Schue fires a fierce look at me. "Rachel, stop acting like a princess." Mr. S shoots the same look at Rachel. "And Finn… what do you even have to do with this?"

"I'm her boyfriend," pointing to Rachel. You don't have to point dipshit. I wouldn't be caught dead cozying up to that goat.

"I'd appreciate if you kept your relationship out of my classroom," Mr. Schue says.

"But-," Finn starts.

Mr. Schue cuts him off. "Enough, we're done here."

The diva and her dog stalk out of the room, clearly upset.

After I walk out of the office, Mr. Schuester puts a hand on my shoulder. "Quinn?"

I stop and look at him. His eyes have sympathy written all over them. I don't like it. "Yeah?"

"I see right through you."

I want to wipe that sympathy off his face. The last time a teacher looked at me like that, it was in sixth grade right after my sister was shot. "You might want to wait a month or two before you go making a statement like that."

He laughs and says, "I haven't been teaching long, but I've already seen more Quinn Fabrays in my classroom than a lot of teachers will see in a lifetime."

I put a hand over my heart, acting wounded. "And I thought I was unique… you wound me William."

"You want to be unique, Quinn? Follow your dreams. Who cares what your parents want you to do. Be more than what they see in you." His face softens " Don't let others dictate who you are," he says getting all serious.

He has no clue how much my parents leak into the future. A redbrick building can't shield me from them. Even if I wanted to hide, I wouldn't be able to. They own me. "I know what you're going to say next… _if I ever need a friend, I'm here."_

"Wrong. I'm not your friend. If I were, you wouldn't be in this predicament. But I've seen your test scores. You're smart. You could really do something with this life if you took it seriously."

"Can I go now?" I ask, because I have no comeback. I'm ready to accept that Ms. Sylvester and Mr. Schuester might not be on my side. But I'm not sure they're on the other side either. That kind of blows my mind.

"Off you go then." I turn to walk away, my thoughts escaping me when I hear him call after me, "and if you ever call me William again, you'll have the pleasure of spending another afternoon with me _and _writing an essay on respect. Remember, I am not your friend."

I continue you walking, smiling to myself. He sure does wield detention and threats of essays like weapons.


	11. Chapter 11: Rachel

**Chapter 11: Rachel**

There's only a half hour left in gym. As I'm in the locker room attached to the gym, I glance at myself and think about being sent to the principal's office. Mr. Schuester was blaming me as much as he blamed Quinn. Which is absurd.

Quinn Fabray is doing a fantastic job ruining my senior year, and it's hardly even begun.

As I finish fixing my makeup, the sound of footsteps on the cold cement floor informs me that I am not alone. I clutch my bag as Kitty Wilde comes into view.

Oh shit. I'm totally dead.

"It must be my lucky day," she says, staring me down. She steps closer.

I want to step back. Actually, no I want to run. I don't because I refuse to show weakness or rather because I know she'd follow.

"Why?" I squeak.

"When a _ho _moves in on my girl, I get possessive."

"I don't want your girl, Kitty. I have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please. Finn!?" She laughs loudly in my face. "He wouldn't know the difference between an orgasm and a hard on if you showed him. He doesn't please you. It's obvious with the way you walk." My cheeks flush. "I heard you've been talking shit about me. You think you're all that." As she's talking, she's getting more riled up. I'm in trouble. "Let's see how you look with a busted lip and a big, black eye. What about busting your nose. Would you come to school with a paper bag over your head if I broke it?"

I try to stand taller, but I watch closely as Kitty walks towards me. Really looking at her. She knows me. My weaknesses.

She shoves me hard against a locker. "Answer me!" she yells.

"Don-don't you think coach Beiste will come looking for me? You want to be suspended?" I know, lame. But I'm buying time.

She chuckles, "you think I care about being suspended?" No… but it was worth a try.

Instead of letting her push me a second time, I swat her arm away. I'm about to get in my first fistfight. A fight I already know I'll lose. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest any minute. My life I've tried to avoid situations like these. I hate violence, but I don't really have a choice.

"Kitty, leave her alone."

We both turn towards the sound of a girl's voice. It's Brittany. A nonfriend who might just save me from getting my face bashed in.

"Brit, stay out of my business," Kitty growls.

Brittany comes toward us, her blonde hair in a ponytail swaying when she walks. "Walk away Kitty," Brittany warns.

"Why!? Because you think you're BFF's with this bitch here now that you both sing stupid show tunes together?

Brittany puts her hands on her hips. "You're mad at Quinn, Kitty. That's why you're acting like a bitch."

At the mention of Quinn, Kitty goes rigid. "Shut up, Brit. You know nothing."

Kitty turns her anger towards Brittany, yelling a multitude of profanities towards the poor girl. Brittany stands tall and I'm shocked that she's standing up to Kitty. But she's holding her own. I can tell because Kitty is losing wind.

Coach Beiste appears behind Kitty. "You three having a party?"

"Just having a chat," Kitty says, not missing a beat, acting as if we're friends.

"I suggest you have a chat _after _school instead of during my class. Miss Berry and Miss Pierce, join the rest of your classmates in gym. Miss Wilde, go to where you're supposed to be."

Kitty points her perfectly manicured fingernail at me. "Later," she says, then walks out of the locker room.

"Thanks," I say softly to Brittany.

She nods.


	12. Chapter 12: Quinn

Hey Readers, I'm so glad you are enjoying the story.

This chapter is super ridiculous. So to that specific individual who thought this story was ridiculous, I decided to elaborate more. :P

But in all seriousness, I know this story is ridiculous. That's kind of why I'm writing it.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Quinn<strong>

"Almost out of the goods?" San says to me. We've stayed behind after Cheerios practice figuring out if we need to replenish our stash. I get together with San every Monday and Thursday to ensure we're on schedule. The rest of the week we don't discuss business, unless it's a dire situation.

"Yeah, we'll have to talk with Roz."

"Okay. She's been on our ass ever since Karofsky."

"She'll get over it. We always get the job done." I glance up at her, "uh… I need a favor."

"Shoot."

"I need Thursday off. You know the chem project I have to work on," I explain, thinking about the bet, "Rachel can only meet Thursday this week."

She looks at me. Hard. "Don't be fucking stupid Q. But yeah, sure. Whatever you need. "

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. "I won't, San. You know me."

"Exactly," her lip quirks up.

Silence settle over us. As it normally does on Mondays or Thursdays. "Sometimes I hate… you know."

"When you sign up with Roz, it's a lifetime contract." Santana says, looking at me. "Yeah… I know", she smiles sadly. San attempts to lighten the mood, "so Rachel, huh?" a smirk crossing her lips.

I grin, "yeah."

"You're a dumbass, you know that right?"

I'm beginning to think she's right. How the hell did I ever think I could lure the beautiful, Broadway star in the making, and very straight Rachel Berry into my very gay, very aggressive, and very dark life?

There's a knock on locker room door, San and I jump. "Who is it," San growls.

"It's Bree."

I open the door, and glance behind her. I see Kitty. Her eyes are bloodshot from either drugs or alcohol; I can't tell which. And she's been messing around with someone. I know her too well to know what Kitty looks like when she's been messing around. "What the hell happened?" I ask, shutting the door behind them.

My gaze rests on Megan. She too looks like she had some _fun _tonight. Kitty walks up to me. "Hi babes, I missed you tonight."

I glance over to Megan. "Yeah, I see how much you missed me."

She pulls me towards the corner, away from everyone else. "Megan? Oh, I don't really like her," she coos, leaning closer to me. I can smell the alcohol radiating off her. "I'm waiting for you to come back to me. "

"Not going to happen."

She stiffens, "Is it because of Rachel?" She grabs my face, trying to force me to look at her.

I grab both her wrists and pull them aside, wondering when my tough as nails ex-girlfriend turned into a major whiney bitch. "Rachel has nothing to do with you and me." My gaze turns fierce, "I hear you've been talking shit to her."

"Did Brit tell you that? She asks, her eyes narrowing.

"Back off," I say, ignoring her question. "Or you'll have more to deal with than a bitter ex-girlfriend."

"Bitter," she scoffs. "You don't seem very bitter, you act like you don't give a shit."

It's true. After I found out she was sleeping around, it took me a little to get over it. Get over her. I wondered what other people were giving that I couldn't. "I use to give a shit, I don't now." I tell her.

Kitty slaps me hard across the face, "Fuck you, Quinn."

Normally if someone hits me, I'd have them flat on the ground crying for their mom. But Kitty. She wasn't worth it anymore. "You should go. " I say, keeping my voice steady.

"Lovers' quarrel?" Bree says, interrupting us.

"Shut up," Kitty and I say simultaneously.

"Hate to break this up, but we've got a problem."

I perk up, interested. "What is it?"

" Fresh meat fucked up, messed with July's girls. You know, East Lima High girls."

I roll my eyes. East Lima bitches think they're some badass group. "I'm in," I say. San and I walk to the car, slamming the door behind us. Bree comes running up and climbs in.

"Where are they?"

"East Lima territory." Fucking idiots I think. I hate cleaning up other people's messes. But I do it. Because like I said, I'm good.

We're driving around East Lima, looking for girls fighting. If you think about it, it sounds ridiculous. Hilarious even.

It's dark. Shadows moving, making me look again. "There they are," I say, pointing to the silhouettes standing a few feet from the covered basketball hoops. As the silhouettes push each other, I jump out of the car even though it's still moving. I rush towards the new Cheerios. They're actually putting up a decent fight. I roughly grab one of the East Highers and pull her up, my fists finding her face.

I glare at the young Cheerios, "we can take them Quinn," wiping blood from their faces.

"Yeah, what about them?" I say, my gaze focused on the three guys walking towards us. _When did July start hiring boys…_

The freshman, Bree, and Santana stand next to me. You know, for a group of girls, we're pretty intimidating. We may be girls, but we don't train our asses off for nothing.

The girl I pull off Santana stands up and points to me. "You're fucking dead."

She's short. "Listen short stop," I say, trying to reason. "Let us go back to our own turf and we'll leave this shithole to you."

Shorty points to one of the freshman. "She stole our mascot."

Oh for the love of God. I look over at her, giving her my best death glare. When I glance back at shorty, she's holding a knife and looking right at me.

After I fight these East Highers, I'm going to kill the newbies.


	13. Chapter 13: Rachel

So you'll probably hate me after you finish reading this chapter. Hate to leave you on that kind of note... but I've got work and then my birthday. I will most likely be posting next in a week or so. BUT... I might give in and just post a couple more chapters. I'm super impatient.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapters 13: Rachel<strong>

My chemistry partner hasn't been in school since we received our projects. A week later she struts into class. I'm pissed off, because no matter how tired I am, or how much I over being slushied, I come to school.

"Nice of you to show," I say.

She smiles, "nice of you to notice." I hate her smug smile.

Mr. Schuester walks into class. When he sees Quinn, I think he's relieved. Squaring his shoulders, he says, "I was going to give a pop quiz. But instead, I'll have you work on your projects with your partners in the library. Rough outlines are due next week."

Finn and I hold hands as we walk to the library. Quinn is behind us, somewhere, whispering to her friends.

"Want to hang out after practice?"

"I can't. After Glee, I have to go home."

He stops and pulls his hand away. "You going to make time for me, or what?"

"You can come over," I offer.

"So I can talk to your Dad's about Barbra? No thanks. Not to be a jerk or anything, but I just want alone time. You and me."

"I know, I do too."

He sighs. "What about Friday?"

I really don't want to, but my relationship with Finn has been rocky ever since Quinn became my chemistry partner. "Sure," I say.

He leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. Quinn clears her throat, "No PDA. School rules. Besides, she's my partner, asswipe. Not yours."

"Shut up, Quinn." Finn mutters, then joins Tina.

I glare at Quinn, "since when are you so concerned with school rules?"

"Since you became my chem partner. Outside chemistry, you're his," she says nodding towards Finn, "In chemistry, you're mine."

We walk into the library only to find that all the tables are taken, so we're forced to find a corner in the back, in the secluded non-fiction section and sit on the carpet. I set my books down and realize that Quinn is staring at me. Almost if she stares long enough she might be able to see the real me. No chance in that though, I hide myself from everyone.

I stare back, because two can play this game. On the surface she's indestructible, except the light scar above her right eyebrow shows she's human. You can see the muscles underneath her skintight shirt. The kind of muscles you can only get by working out regularly. She still looks feminine though.

When my eyes meet hers, time stops. Those eyes are piercing mine, and I can swear at this moment she can sense the real me. The one without the façade. Just Rachel.

"What would it take for you to go out with me?" she asks.

"You're not serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Mr. Shuester wanders by us, saving me from answering. "I'm watching you two. Quinn we missed you last week. What happened?"

"I kind of fell onto a knife," she says smiling.

He shakes his head in disbelief, then moves to bother other students.

I look at Quinn quizzically. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. I was cooking some dinner and wouldn't you know, the damn thing slipped up into the air, finding my shoulder. Santana sewed me up. Want to see?" she asks gleefully.

I cover my eyes. "Quinn, don't gross me out. I don't believe for a second a knife slipped against gravity. You were in a fight."

She dismisses me. "You never answered my question. What would it take?"

"Nothing, I wouldn't go out with you."

"I bet if we make out you'll change your mind."

I roll my eyes, "As if that'll ever happen."

"Your loss." Quinn stretches her legs out, laying her chemistry book on her lap. She looks at me with her hazel eyes that are so intense; I swear they could hypnotize someone. "You ready, " she asks.

For a nanosecond, as I stare into her clear hazel eyes, I wonder what it'd be like to kiss Quinn. My gaze drops to her lips. Would her lips be hard on mine, or soft? Is she a slow kisser, or hungry and fast like her personality.

"For what?" I whisper softly as I lean closer.

"The project," she says. "Hand warmers. Mr. Schue's class. Chemistry."

I shake my head and the thoughts racing through my mind. I must be more tired than I thought. "Yeah, hand warmers." I open my chemistry book.

"Rachel?"

"What?" I say, staring blindly at the words on the page. I can't concentrate because I'm too embarrassed.

"You were looking at me like you wanted to kiss me."

I force a laugh. "Yeah, right."

"Nobody's watching if you want to… try. Not to brag, but I'm pretty damn good."

"Quinn, you're not my type," I quickly add, "I'm straight." Hoping I give her a convincing look.

She gives me a lazy smile, one that was clearly made to melt hearts all over the world.

"You only like guys?"

"Stop," I say.

"What?" she says, getting all serious. "It's okay to be curious, you know."

Mr. Schuester appears in front of us. "How's the outline?"

I put on a fake smile. "Great." I pull out the research I did at home and get down to business, feeling Mr. Schuesters eye on me. "I did some research about hand warmers last night. We'll need to dissolve sixty grams of sodium acetate and one hundred millimeters of water at seventy degrees."

"Wrong," Quinn says.

I look up and realize Mr. Schuester has left. "Excuse me?"

Quinn folds her arms across her chest. "You're wrong"

"I don't believe so."

'You think you've never been wrong before?"

She says it as if I'm not in the running for valedictorian, which makes my blood boil. "Sure I have," I say. "Why, just last week I bought a pink blossom color lip balm that I assumed would go well with my complexion. Needless to say, the purchase was a total disaster." I wonder if she knows I'm being sarcastic.

"I'll bet," she says.

"Have you been wrong?" I ask.

"Of course," she says. "Last week, when I robbed the convenient store down the block, I told the cashier to hand over all the fifties he had in the till. When I should have asked for twenties because there were _way _more twenties than fifties."

Okay, so she obviously got the sarcasm and gave it right back at me with a ridiculous scenario, which is unsettling because it makes us similar, in a way. I put a hand on my chest and gasped. "What a disaster."

She smiles, "I guess we can both be wrong."

I roll my eyes and stubbornly declare, "well I'm not wrong about chemistry. Unlike you, I take school seriously."

"Let's bet on it then. If I'm right, you kiss me," she says.

"And if I'm right?"

"You name it."

It's like taking candy from a baby. "If I win, you take me and the class seriously," I tell her. "No teasing me and making ridiculous comments."

"Deal," she pauses. "I feel terrible for not informing you of my photographic memory."

"Quinn," I shake my head and smirk, " I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you that I copied the information straight from the book." I open the book, feeling confident. "What temperature does it need to be cooled at? Do tell me what you think is the correct answer."

Quinn thrives on challenges. But this time, she was going to lose. She closes her book and stares at me. "Twenty degrees. And it needs to be dissolved at one hundred degrees, not seventy."

I scoff, scanning the page. Then my notes. Then back at the page. I can't be wrong. "One hundred degrees." I look up at her in complete shock. "You're right."

She smirks, "you going to kiss me now or later?"

"Now," I say, which I can tell shocks her because her body stiffens.

"Really?"

"Yes." I take one of her hands in mine. I'd never be this bold if we had an audience and I'm thankful for being in the secluded area in the library. Her breathing slows and I sit up on my knees and lean into her. I'm trying to ignore the fact that her hands are soft and send shivers through my body. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be though, I'm in control.

I can feel her restraining herself. She's letting me make the move, which is good. I'm afraid of what she'd do if I let her loose.

I place her hand against my cheek so it cups my face and I hear her breath hitch. I want to smile because her reaction proves that I have the power.

She's unmoving as our eyes meet.

Time stops again.

Then I turn my head into her hand and kiss the inside of her palm.

"There, I kissed you," I say, giving her hand back and ending the game.

Looks like miss badass just got played in her own game.


	14. Chapter 14: Quinn

**Chapter 14: Quinn**

"You call that a kiss?"

"Yup."

Alright, it's true, I'm a little shocked the girl put my hand on her smooth cheek. You'd think I was on drugs by the way my body reacted.

She had me totally under her spell a minute ago. Then the pretty devil turned my game around so she had the upper hand. She surprised me. I laugh, deliberately calling attention to us because I know that's exactly what she doesn't want.

"Shhh!" Rachel says, hitting me on the shoulder.

My bad arm.

I wince. "Ow!" The cut on my bicep feels like a billion little pins being shoved into my arm.

She bites her lip, with little concern showing on her face.

"Did I hurt you?" she asks.

"Yes," I say through gritted teeth as I concentrate on her lips instead of the shooting pain.

"Good."

I lift my sleeve to examine the damage, which now has blood trickling from one of the stitches San did after the fight with the East Highers. Rachel got a pretty good hit for someone who probably weighs next to nothing.

She sucks in her breath. "Oh My God! I didn't actually mean to hurt you, Quinn. I didn't, I swear. When you threatened to show me your scar, you lifted your left arm.

"I wasn't really going to show you," I say. "I was fucking with you. It's okay though. Don't worry," I tell her. You'd think the girl has never seen blood before by the way her eyes are widening.

"No, it's not okay. Your stitches are bleeding," she insists.

"I'll just rub some dirt in it. Good as new." I smile, trying to lighten the mood. The girl is getting pale and she's breathing heavily, like panting. If she passes out, I swear I'm losing the bet with Zizes. Shit, if she can't handle a little blood, how is she going to handle having sex with me? Unless we're not naked, so she won't see some of the various scars I've received from San's stupidity. Fuck that. I want to feel all of her against me. I want her to know it's me she's with and not some other Lima loser.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Rachel asks looking concerned.

Should I tell her I was spacing out while thinking about having sex with her.

Mr. S walks up to us with a stern look on his face. "This is the library you two, keep it down." But then he notices the line of blood snaking down my arm. "Rachel, help her to the nurse. Quinn, next time come to school with that thing bandaged."

I pretend to look wounded, "don't I get sympathy Mr. Schue? I'm bleeding to death."

"Do something to help mankind or the planet, Quinn. Then you'll get my sympathy. People who get into knife fights don't earn anything from me except disgust. Now go get cleaned up."

Rachel lifts my books off my lap and says with a shaky voice, "come on."

"I can hold the books," I tell her as I follow her out of the library. I'm pressing my shirt against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding down.

She's walking ahead of me. If I tell her I need help walking because I feel faint, will she come to my rescue? Maybe I should stumble… although knowing her, she wouldn't care.

Right before we walk into the nurse's office, she turns around. Her hands are shaking. "I'm so sorry Quinn. I di- didn't me-mean-"

She's freaking out. If she cries, I won't know what to do. I'm not use to people crying around me. I don't think Kitty cried once during our entire relationship. Emotional chicks scare me.

"Um… you okay?" I ask.

"If this gets around, I'm never going to live it down. Oh God, if Mr. Schuester calls my parents they'll be so angry. And my daddy, he'll freak out. He'll think I finally snapped" She keeps talking and shaking, as if she's been in a car accident.

_"Rachel?"_

"… and my daddy will be so focused on trying to fix me that he'll forget about my dad. And my dad needs help because he's depressed and he'll kill himself. Oh god. I'll be the reason why my dad dies. I can't be the rea-"

Before she can get another word in, I yell "Rachel!" the girl looks up at me with an expression so confused I don't know whether to feel sorry for her or stunned she's rambling and can't seem to stop. "You're freaking out," I say, stating the obvious.

Her eyes are usually clear and vibrant, but now they're dull and blank as if she's not all here.

She looks down and around and everywhere except at me. "No, I'm not. I'm fine."

"The hell you are. Look at me."

She hesitates. "I'm fine," she says, now focused on the locker across from us. "Just forget everything I said."

"If you don't look at me, I'm going to bleed out and need a transfusion. Look at me."

Her breathing is still heavy as she focuses on me. "What? If you want to tell me I'm crazy and my life is out of control, I'm already aware of it."

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me," I tell her. "Even if you did, I probably deserved it." I'm trying to make a joke so the girl doesn't have a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. "Making a mistake isn't a crime. What's the use of a reputation if you can't ruin it every now and then?"

"Don't try to make me feel better. I still hate you."

"I hate you too. Now move so the janitor doesn't have to spend all day mopping up my blood."

Instead of moving out of the way, she opens the door to the nurse's office for me. I think she's functioning now, but her hands are still shaking. "She's bleeding," she calls out to Miss Pillsbury, the school nurse and guidance counselor.

Miss Pillsbury has me sit down on one of the examining tables. "What happened here?"

I look over at Rachel. She has a worried look on her face, as if she's concerned that I might croak right here. I hope to God that's what the Angel of Death looks like before I die. I'd be more than happy to go to hell if a face like Rachel's was greeting me.

"My stitches opened up," I say. "No biggie."

"And… how'd it happen?" Miss Pillsbury asks as she wets a white cloth and dabs it on my arm. I hold my breath, waiting for the stinging to stop. I'm not a narc, especially since I'm trying to seduce her.

"I hit her," Rachel says, her voice hitching.

Stunned, Miss Pillsbury turns around. "_You _hit her?"

"By accident," I add, not having a clue why I suddenly want to protect this girl who hates me and would probably rather flunk Mr. Schue's class than have to partner with me.

My plans with Rachel are not working. The only feelings she's admitted to having toward me is hatred. But the thought of telling my parents that I lost the BMW is more painful than the alcohol wipe Miss Pillsbury is now rubbing on my wound.

I've got to get Rachel alone if I'm going to have any chance of saving my reputation and my car. I mean… does her freak out session mean that she doesn't really hate me? I've never seen a girl do that, let alone Rachel. She's a robot. Or so I thought. She's always looked and acted like she was perfect. Who knew it'd be my bloody arm that would crack her.

I look over at Rachel. She's focused on my arm. I wish we were back in the library. I could swear she was thinking about getting it on with me.

"Let's hang Thursday after school. You know, to work on the outline," I say.

"I'm busy Thursday," she says.

Probably with the pet. Obviously she'd rather be with that asshole than me.

"Friday, then," I say, testing her. Although I caught her at a time when she's vulnerable and still shaking. I admit I'm a manipulative jerk.

She bites her bottom lip. "I can't Friday, either." My girl boner is officially deflated. "What about Saturday morning?" she says. "We can meet at Lima Central Library."

"You sure you can pencil me into your busy schedule?"

"Shut up. I'll meet you there at ten."

"It's a date," I say while Miss Pillsbury , obviously eavesdropping, finishes wrapping my wound.

Rachel gathers her books. "It's not a date, Quinn," she says over her shoulder.

I grab my books and hurry after her. She's walking alone. Which means class is still in session. "It might not be a date, but you still owe me a kiss. I always collect my debts." My chem partner's eyes go from dull to full of fire. Mmm, I like them dangerous. I wink at her. "And don't sweat about what lip gloss to wear. You'll just have to reapply it after we make out."


	15. Chapter 15: Rachel

I know some of these chapters seem meaningless, but I'm trying to give small information here and there that will help further the plot more.

Anyways, thanks for sticking with me. Welcome new followers!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Rachel<strong>

One thing is certain- I am not making out with Quinn Fabray.

Thankfully Mr. Schuester had us busy doing experiments all week, giving us no time to talk except about who's going to light the Bunsen burner. Although every time I look at Quinn's arm it reminds me of when I hit her.

I'm trying to think of her while I fix my makeup for my date with Finn. It's Friday night and we're going to dinner and a movie.

After triple-checking myself in the mirror and attaching the bracelet he gave me for our anniversary last year, I head to the backyard, where my dad is with his physical therapist. My daddy is lounging on the side reading his book silently keeping tabs on my dad.

It's pretty quiet, except for the physical therapist's voice instructing my dad.

Daddy puts down his book, his face worried and stern. "Rachel, don't be out past ten thirty." I know his backs been hurting from trying to help my dad… but seriously. I deserve a night out. Right?

"We're seeing a movie at eight. We'll probably be home after that."

"You heard me. No later than ten thirty. If you need to leave the movie earlier then so be it. Finn should be earning my respect anyway."

Our doorbell rings. "That's probably him," I say. I rush to the front door. Finn is standing on our front stoop with a dozen roses in his hand.

"For you," he says, surprising me.

Wow! I'm feeling guilty for thinking about Quinn so much this past week. I hug Finn and give him a kiss.

"Let me put these in water," I say, stepping back.

I hum happily as I walk into the kitchen, smelling the fragrance of the flowers. Putting water in the vase, I can't help but wonder if Quinn is the romantic type. She probably brings her dates sharp knives and evil glares as gifts. Being with Finn is so…

Boring? Nah, we're not boring. We're safe. Comfortable.

After cutting the bottoms off the roses and placing them in the vase, I find Finn chatting with my daddy.

"Ready?" I say?

Finn flashes me his million-dollar smile. "Yup."

"Have her back by ten thirty," my daddy calls out. So ridiculous, but I look at my dad and swallow my argument.

"Sure thing, Mr. Berry," Finn responds.

When we're in his car, I ask, "What movie are we seeing?"

"Change of plans. My step-dad's firm got tickets to the Clippers game. In a suite right behind home plate. Sweetie, we're going to watch the Clips."

"How cool. Will we be back by ten thirty?" Because I know my daddy will be waiting for me at the door.

"If they don't go into extra innings. Does your dad think the world will end if you don't come home or something?"

"Daddy," I say correcting him. "Doesn't think that. I just… I just don't want to upset him."

At the game, Finn leads me to his step-dad's corporate suite at the field. The box is crowded with people from a bunch of law firms. Finn's parents greet us. His mom hugs me and disappears leaving us to mingle with other people.

I watch as Finn talks with people in the suite. He's always been good with people, but honestly I can never imagine Finn in a business suit. But he seems at home here. He shakes hands, smiles wide, and laughs at everyone's jokes whether they're funny or not.

"Let's watch the game in the seats over there," he says leading me to seats after he orders hot dogs and drinks. I discretely toss the hot dog in the trash. He can never seem to remember I'm vegan.

"I'm hoping to get an internship next summer," he says quietly, "so I gotta get face time with these guys."

While Finn schmoozes the lawyers, Mercedes calls my cell and I give her the highlights of the game. She tells me that she had the best time at this dance club called Club Fahrenheit that will let in teens. She insists that Kurt and I will love it there.

At nine forty-five, I turn to Finn and tell him that we need to start heading home, even though the game isn't over.

He takes my hand in his. I think he's about to excuse himself from a conversation with Mr. Rutherford. Instead, Mr. Rutherford calls over Mr. Motta.

As the minutes tick by, I'm getting nervous. There has been enough tension and emotions in my house. I don't want to cause more. "Finn…," I say, squeezing his hand.

He puts an arm around me in response.

At the top of the ninth inning, when it's past ten, I say, "I'm sorry but Finn has to drive me home now."

Mr. Rutherford and Mr. Motta shake Finn's hand, then I pull him out of the park.

"Rachel, do you know how hard it is to get an internship in the city? Especially with my grades."

"At this point, I don't care. I needed to be home by ten thirty."

"So you'll be home at eleven. Tell your dad we got stuck in traffic."

Daddy. Jesus have mercy on me. How hard is it to know the difference between my dads? There's dad and then there's daddy. Not only that, but Finn doesn't know what daddy's been like these past few months. Thankfully I've avoided bringing him around the house and if he comes over, it's for a few minutes or less. He has no clue what it's like at my house.

We pull in my driveway at eleven thirty. Finn is completely oblivious of my mood and is totally pumped for his internship opportunity.

"I have to go," I tell him, giving him a short peck on the cheek.

"Stay here a few minutes," he says pulling me in for a kiss. "We haven't fooled around in forever. I miss it."

"It's late." I look over at him and sigh. He has a pathetic look on his face. "We'll have more nights."

I walk into my house, prepared to get reprimanded for being late. Sure enough, daddy is standing there with his arms crossed. "You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Do you think I just make rules for them to be broken? It's not just you in this house. I matter too."

"I know… I'm sorry daddy. We went to a Clippers game instead."

"I don't need excuses Rachel. I need you to call and tell me about a change in plans."

"I'm sorry… I didn't think about it." I did actually. I just imagined him yelling and complaining over the phone, and then again when I got home.

"Do you ever think about this family? What we've done for you? I'm very disappointed in you Rachel."

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll call next time. I'm tired. Can I just go to bed?"

He dismisses me with a huff and turns away from me. God, he's so dramatic sometimes.

On Saturday morning I wake up to my daddy screaming. Throwing my covers back, I rush out of bed and run down the stairs to see what all the commotion is about.

Dad is in his wheelchair, throwing things in the kitchen.

"LeRoy Berry, I swear to god. If you don't calm down this instant. I'm done. I'm walking out." My daddy yells, and then tries to sweep up the broken glass that's covering the kitchen floor.

Dad throws another plate on the ground. My daddy gasps, then narrows his eyes.

"I'll deal with it," I say, rushing to my dad.

My daddy has never hit anyone in his life, but I can see his anger bubbling over.

"Do not baby him, Rachel," he says. "If wants to act like a child, so be it. We can send him to daycare." He glares at my dad, "Is that what you want!?"

I hate when daddy does this. He doesn't deal with his emotional frustration and then it comes and kicks us all in the ass. When I look at my dad, I can see the frustration and anger in his eyes.

My daddy points a finger at my dad, then at the disaster on the floor. "You are cleaning this up, LeRoy." I roll my eyes, that's a ridiculous thing to say, and I know that it only angers my dad more when he knows he can't do that.

"Daddy, stop," I say. "You don't need to escalate the situation more, he's clearly upset. Why make it worse?"

"And what about me!?"

I can feel the tension breaking through my veins. It explodes and I can't stop the words from coming out, I can't take it anymore. "This isn't about you! Why does it go back to how everything affects you?" I scream. "Can't you see that he's hurting too? Instead of yelling at him, why don't you take the goddamn time figuring out what's wrong?"

My dad stares at both of us. Triumphantly, he throws one more dish in the air. Unfortunately, he puts a little too much power into it because it shatters the light above us. I cover my head, and feel a slight stinging pain on my arms.

My dad is stunned.

My daddy is frowning.

"Rachel, go take your father to his therapist appointment. I don't have the patience or energy to do so. Maybe the therapist can fix him." As he's making his way out of the kitchen my dad interjects, speaking for the first time in days.

"Hiram, I don't need to be fixed. I need you to love me. I need you to support me. I realize that I haven't been the easiest person to be around, but your eyes tell me you've given up on me." He glances my way, "c'mon darling, I'll need a ride to the docs."


	16. Chapter 16:Quinn

**Chapter 16: Quinn**

I have been waiting at the library for an hour. Okay, so maybe it's been two. Before ten, I waited outside on the bench. At ten I came inside and looked at the display, pretending to be interested in upcoming library events. I didn't want to seem too eager to see Rachel. At ten forty-five I sat on the couches in the teen section pretending to read my chem book.

Now it's noon. Where is she?

I could just go hang out with my friends. Hell, I should just go hang with friends. But I have this urge to know why Rachel blew me off. I tell myself it's my ego, but deep down, I'm worried.

She hinted, during her freak out in front of the nurse's office, that her dad's aren't doing so hot. Maybe something happened?

I've had enough of waiting for Rachel, so I've decided to go to her house. Confront her on why she ditched me. Without thinking it through, I get in my car and head towards her house. I know where she lives; don't ask me why.

I park my car in her driveway and ring her doorbell. I clear my throat so I don't choke on my words. Why am I feeling insecure, like I need to impress her all of a sudden?

Nobody answers. I ring again.

Just as I'm about to give up, the door opens. Standing before me is a tall broad man. His demeanor looks… unfriendly.

"Can I help you?" He asks with an attitude. I sense that he's about to slam the door in my face.

"I'm, uh, not here to sell anything. My name is Quinn. I just wanted to know if uh, Rachel was home?" Oh great, now I'm mumbling.

"No. He answers with a steely glare.

"Do you know where she went?"

"I don't give out information about the whereabouts of my daughter to strangers. Now if you'll excuse me," he says, then closes the door in my face.

I'm left standing in front of the door like an idiot. For all I know, Rachel was behind the door instructing her dad to get rid of me. I wouldn't put it past her to play games with me.

I hate games, I always lose.

I walk back to my car, wondering if I should feel pathetic or angry.


	17. Chapter 17:Rachel

**Chapter 17: Rachel**

"Why did Quinn come to our house today?"

Those were the first words my daddy asks me after I arrive back home from the therapist with my dad.

"Uh, I'm partnered with her for chemistry," I answer, avoiding his eyes. Wait a second… "How do you know about Quinn?"

"He was here after you left for the appointment. I sent her away."

_Shit. _I forgot to meet Quinn this morning. Guilt sets in as I think about her waiting for me at the library. I was the one who didn't trust her to show, but now I'm the flake. Ugh, I feel awful.

"I don't know what she's doing around the house, but she is not welcome here. After everything she's done to you? And the talk about her using," he shakes his head. "She is not a good influence, Rachel Berry. You know better."

One day I hope to live in a place where I don't have to worry about who I associate with. "Fine," I tell him.

"Can't you change partners?"

"No. And before you ask, yes. I tried."

"Maybe you didn't try hard enough, I'll call the school on Monday and make them-"

I whip my attention to him, ignoring the stinging, of the cuts that I noticed when I was waiting for my dad in the lobby of the therapist's office. I mentally remind myself to clean the wounds and bandage them, in hopes of no scarring. "Daddy, I'll handle it. I don't need you to call the school and making me look like a two-year-old."

"Did she teach you how to talk to your father? Because all of sudden you mouth off to me because your partnered with _her? _No wonder you yelled before. Your attitude is not appealing."

I wish my dad would intervene. But I know he's losing it too. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. " Daddy, I get it. I'm sorry."

"I'm only trying to protect you," he says.

Thankfully, the phone rings and my daddy turns to answer it. I hurry outside to where my dad is before my daddy can call me back for discussions. I sit next to him. "Hi," I say.

He looks up. Sad eyes.

I want him to know that I don't blame him for any of this; that I'm not upset with him. "Want me to sing you a song?"

He shakes his head.

"Watch television?"

Another shake.

"Daddy… I'm not mad at you," I take his hand. "I love you, you know."

Silence follows. He turns to me. "How're the cuts on your arms?"

I examine them quickly, "they're fine, don't worry about it."

"You should go clean them."

I nod, lean over and kiss him on the cheek. As I'm walking away I swear I could hear him whisper, "I'm sorry." And it breaks my heart.

A little while later, I search my William McKinley High student directory for Quinn's phone number. I dial her number.

"Hello?" a women answers.

I take a deep breath. " Hi, is Quinn there?"

"She's out." A couple seconds pass. "Who is this?"

"Rachel Berry. I'm uh, a friend of Quinn's from school."

"Can I take a message?"

"Tell her Rachel called. Here's my number…"


	18. Chapter 18: Quinn

**Chapter 18: Quinn**

Right now I'm standing under the bleachers where the Cheerios like to hang out at night.

"Drink some beer or something. You're depressing to look at," Santana says, throwing a Corona at me. I told her about Rachel blowing me off this morning and all she's done is shake her head at me as if I should have known better.

I catch the bottle, but toss it right back. "No thanks."

"Not good enough for you, princess?" It's Megan, probably the stupidest Cheerio. She can control her liquor about as well as she controls her drug use, which is not well.

I challenge her without saying anything.

Nobody messes with me. During my first year in high school, I proved my worth. I was top dog, queen bee, whatever you want to call it by the end of my freshman year. Roz took a liking on me, probably because she knew my sister.

As a little kid, I thought I could save the world. Or at least save my family. When I found out my sister was working for some drug ring in high school, I laughed. Because, seriously, what the fuck. I had dreams then. Deluded dreams that I could make it out of this sorry town and stay away from the shit that comes with living in Lima. But those dreams died along with my future the night my sister was shot twenty feet from thirteen-year-old face.

When I stood over her body, all I could see was this red spot spreading on the front of her shirt. It reminded me of a bulls-eye, except the target kept getting larger and larger. The next thing I knew, she gasped and that was it.

My sister was dead.

I never touched her after that. I didn't even hold her hand. I was too afraid. In the days that followed, I didn't say a word. Even when the police questioned me, I couldn't speak. They said that I'd been in shock and my brain didn't know how to process what happened. They were right. I don't remember what the guy looked like who shot her. I've never been able to seek revenge for my sister's murder, even though I replay the moment every night in hopes of figuring out who shot her. If I could remember, the fucker would pay.

My memory today though, is clear. Being stood up by Rachel and her dad looking at me like I was the scum of the earth. Things I want to forget are stuck in my brain like glue.

Santana downs half her beer in one gulp. San looks over at me, "Kitty really screwed you up."

"And how's that?"

"You don't trust girls. Take Rachel Berry-"

I curse under my breath. "San, on second thought toss that Corona over here." I catch it, and chuck the beer hard against the wall just to watch it shatter.

She shakes her head, "You may not want to listen, Quinn. But you're going to hear me out, because I'm your best friend. Your bitchy ex-girlfriend Kitty stabbed you in the back. So you're rebounding by stabbing Rachel in the back."

I'm reluctantly listening to Santana. "You calling my chem partner a rebound?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what I'm calling her. But it's going to backfire. Big time. I know you Quinn. I know you," she looks at me hard. "You like her."

I don't want to admit it. "I only want her for the bet."

Santana laughs loudly. She points to me with the beer in her hand. "You, my friend, are so good at lying to yourself. You're actually starting to believe the bullshit coming out of your mouth. Those two girls are total opposites."

I think about the differences between Kitty and Rachel. Kitty has these intense green eyes. While Rachel's are warm and innocent, ones you can practically see through. Will they be that way when I make love to her?

_Shit. _Make love? What the hell possessed me to think about Rachel and love in the same sentence? I am seriously losing it.

A familiar voice cuts through my thoughts. "Want to party in town? She asks.

I'm staring into green eyes. Green. Safe. I don't want brown. Brown confuses me too much. Green is straightforward, easier to deal with.

All I can see is chocolate eyes and I want so badly for them to go away. I grab a Corona and chug the whole thing and find the lips of the green-eyed girl. Even if I remember green as being bitter.

"Yeah, " I say when my lips separate from hers. "Let's go."

An hour later, I'm sitting on a bench. Déjà vu kicking me in the face, but this time I feel arms wrap around my stomach. "What are you thinking about babe?"

_Uh fuck… _"the stars," I mumble to the girl who called me babe.

She's kissing my neck, moving her way to my face. "I'll be your moon if you be my sun. You can rescue me from the dark."

Somehow I think I'm the one who needs rescuing because I feel like she's drowning me with her kisses. "Kitty," I say to the green-eyed girl, suddenly aware of the audience around us.

"Shh, let's go," she says, taking my hand and dragging me up. We weave through the crowd until we find a vacant space to sit among our friends.

I lean against the wall and stretch out my legs. My ex-girlfriend straddles me, as if we never broke up and she never cheated on me. I feel trapped.

She puts her lips on mine.

Maybe this will work to wipe out my memory for good. Forget shootings, ex-girlfriends, and bets of having hot sex with a girl who thinks I'm trash.

Her hands move up my chest and rest on my shoulders. "I can make you happy, Quinn," she whispers, so close I can smell the alcohol on her breath.

An image of Rachel and Finn with their arms around each other forms in my head, I pull Kitty closer.

I don't need a girl like Rachel.

I need hot and spicy Kitty, my lying little moon.


	19. Chapter 19: Rachel

**Chapter 19: Rachel**

I convinced Kurt, Blaine, Finn, Artie, and Tina to go to Club Fahrenheit tonight, the club Mercedes told me about. It was in town, about an hour or so away. Finn doesn't like to dance. Well… actually he can't dance. So I ended up dancing with the rest of the gang and even this one guy named Brody.

Now we're walking around the town, headed to nowhere in particular. But I've told my dad's that we're headed to a hotel, so I don't have to worry about checking in. We decide to head to the hotel. While Kurt and I check everyone in, Tina is lagging behind with the rest of the gang, who are unloading stashed beer and bottles of wine, hidden in eco-friendly grocery bags from Finn's car.

"Blaine and I had sex," Kurt blurts out.

"What? Seriously?"

"Yeah. I know I wanted to wait until we were in college, but it just happened. His parents were out of town, and I went over to his place and one thing led to another and we just did it."

"Wow, so how was it?"

"I don't know… To be honest, it was kinda weird. But he was really sweet. And at night he came to my house and brought me flowers. I had to lie to my dad and say there were for our anniversary. I couldn't very well say the flowers were in celebration of his taking my virginity. What about you and Finn?"

"Finn wants to have sex," I tell him.

"Every guy wants to have sex, I mean even I wanted to have sex."

"I just… don't want to. At least, not now."

"Then it's your job to say no," he says, as if it's that easy. Kurt wasn't a virgin anymore, he had said yes. Why is it so hard for me to say yes, too?

"How will I know it's the right time?"

"You sure you want to ask me about that?" he says giving me a look. I nod. "I guess when you're totally ready you'll want to do it with no reservations or questions. You know he wants to have sex, but it's up to you to make it happen. Or not. Listen, the first time wasn't all that fun. It was kind of sloppy and most of the time I felt stupid and self-conscious. Opening yourself up to being vulnerable is what makes it special with the person you love."

Maybe that's why I haven't wanted to do it with Finn. Maybe deep down, I don't love him as much as I thought. Am I even capable of loving someone so much? I really don't know.

"Mike broke up with Tina today," Kurt whispers to me. "He started dating some girl in one of his college classes."

If I didn't feel sorry for Tina before, I do now. Especially because thrives on attention from guys. No wonder she was all over Artie tonight.

I watch as the guys and Tina come into view and set the drinks down on the bed. Tina grabs Arties face and pulls him close. "Let's go make out," she tells him. Artie is all too ready to honor her request.

Pulling her away from him, I lean close and whisper so only she can hear, "Don't fool around with Artie."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't like him like that. Don't use hm. Or let him use you."

Tina pushes me away. "You seriously think you're miss perfect, pointing out everybody else's flaws except for yours."

That's not fair. I don't want to point out her flaws, I wasn't even trying to. But if I see her going on a self-destructive path, isn't it up to me as her friend to stop her? Maybe not. We're friends, but not super close. The only one I let close is Kurt.

Kurt, Blaine, Finn, and I sit on the beds and talk about the football game while the TV makes background noise.

We laugh, remembering the missed plays and imitating the football coach who yelled at players from the sidelines. Her face gets all red and she looks a little bt constipated when she yells. Blaine does a hilarious imitation of her.

It feels good sitting here with my friends and Finn, and for a while I forget about my chemistry partner, who's been occupying my thoughts lately.

After a while, Kurt and Blaine get up and go for a walk. I'm leaning against Finn. Tina and Artie are no where to be found, assuming they're hooking up.

I grab the bottle of Chardonnay the guys bought. The boys, well except Kurt, have been drinking beer and us gals have been drinking wine because I hate the taste of beer, as does Kurt. I bring the bottle to my lips and finish it off. I'm feeling buzzed, but I'd need to drink an entire bottle myself to feel completely free.

"Did you miss me this summer?" I ask, leaning into Finn as he runs his fingers down my hair. It's probably a mess. I wish I was drunk enough not to care.

Finn takes my hand in his and leads it to his crotch. He lets out a moaning breath.

"Yeah," he says into my neck. "Lots."

When I take my hand back, his arms snake around to my front. He squeezes my boobs like they're water balloons. I've never minded Finn's touch before, but now I'm creeped out and annoyed by his roaming hands. I shrug out of his grasp.

"What's wrong, Rach?"

"I don't know." And it's the truth. I don't know. Things with Finn seem strained ever since school started. And thoughts of Quinn keep invading my head, which is annoying me more than anything. I reach over and grab a beer. "It feels forced," I tell Finn as I open the can and take a sip. "can't we sit here without fooling around?"

Finn lets out a dramatic deep breath. And he calls me the drama queen. "Sweetie, I want to do it."

I try to not let the annoyance show and down the entire can in one gulp, but end up spewing some out. "You mean _now? _Where are friends can see if they come strolling back in?"

"Why not? We've waited long enough."

"I don't know, Finn. I guess… I guess I thought it would be more, romantic."

"What can be more romantic than this?

"What about condoms?"

"I'll pull out."

That doesn't sound romantic at all. I'll be freaking out and worrying about getting pregnant the whole time. Not how I imagined my first time. "Making love means a lot to me."

"To me to. So let's do it already."

"I feel like summer changed you."

"Maybe it did," he says defensively. "Maybe I realized that our relationship has to be more. Jeez, Rach. Whoever heard of a senior being a virgin? Everyone things we've done it, so why don't we just do it. Shit, you even let that bitch Fabray think she can get into your pants."

My heart slams into my chest. "You think I'd rather sleep with Quinn than you?" I ask, my eyes getting watery. I don't know if it's the alcohol making me emotional or if it's because of the words he's saying. My thoughts focus on my chem partner. I hate myself for having these thoughts, and I hate Finn right now for pointing it out.

"What about Tina?" I throw back. "You two are like one cozy couple in chemistry class."

"Get off it Rachel. So some girl pays attention to me in chemistry. Obviously _you _don't because you're too busy arguing with Quinn. Everyone knows it's all foreplay."

"That's not fair, Finn."

"What's going on?" Kurt says, walking back into the room with Blaine in tow.

"Nothing," I tell him. I stand up and grab my shoes. "I'm going for a walk."

Kurt grabs his phone. "I'll go with you."

"No." I'm finally feeling light-headed. It's like having an out of body experience and I want to go it alone. "I don't want or need anyone."

"She's drunk," Blaine says, eyeing the empty bottle and beer can beside me.

"Am not," I tell them. I snatch another beer and I open it as I walk out the door. Alone. By myself. Which is how it should be. How it will always be.

Kurt calls out, "I don't want you going alone."

"I just want to be by myself right now. I need to sort things out."

"Rach, come here," Finn says, making no movement towards me.

I ignore him.

"Don't walk too far," Kurt says. "It's not safe."

Safe shmafe. So what if something happens to me, anyway? Finn doesn't care. Hell, it'd be easier for my dad's if I were out of the picture too.

Closing my eyes, I make my way out of the hotel breathing in the fresh air. I chug the last of my beer and toss it in the trash. I continue walking, pausing only to see what direction I want to go. I've gone a few blocks, or five? Less than a mile. I hear music up ahead. I love music. Closing my eyes, my body moves to the unfamiliar song.

I haven't realized how far I've walked until the laughing and voices grow louder. I freeze. People wearing red and white jackets, and a big fat Cheerio sign across the back of the jackets clue me in. I've gone much too far.

"Look everybody, it's Rachel Berry, the diva herself," a guys says. "Come here, sexy. Dance with me."

I scan the crowd desperately looking for a familiar face or even just friendly. Quinn. She's here. Sitting in her lap facing her is Kitty Wild.

A sobering picture.

Another person advances on me. "Don't you know this side of the town is for our kind only?" they sneer, moving closer. "Or maybe you've come sniffin' for some danger. You know what they say, baby-"

"Leave me alone." My words are slurred.

"You think you're too good for me?" He moves toward me, his eyes full of anger. The music stops.

I stagger backward. I'm not too drunk to know I'm in danger.

"Karofsky, lay off." Quinn's voice is low- it's an order.

Quinn is caressing Kitty's shoulder, her lips mere inches from it. I sway. This is a nightmare and I need to get away, fast.

I start running, the Cheerios and their gang start laughing. I can't run fast enough and I feel like I'm in a dream where my feet are moving but I'm not going anywhere.

Rachel, wait!" a voice calls from behind me.

I turn around and am face to face with the girl who's haunting my dreams… day and night.

Quinn.

The girl who I hate.

The girl who I can't get out of my mind, no matter how drunk I am.

"Ignore Dave," she says. "Sometimes he tries to be badass." I'm stunned when she steps closer and wipes away a tear from my cheek. "Don't cry. I wouldn't let him hurt you."

Should I tell her I'm not afraid of being hurt? I'm afraid of not being in control.

Though I haven't actually run that far, it's far enough from Quinn's friends. They can't see me or hear me.

"Why do you like Kitty?" I ask as the world tilts and I stumble. " She's mean."

She holds out her hands to help me, but I flinch. So she stuffs her hands in her pockets. "What the fuck do you care? You stood me up anyway."

"I had stuff going on."

"Like running scales or something just as lame?"

_Or having to take my father to the therapist and cleaning up the glass from the kitchen floor? _I jab my finger in her direction. "You're a bitch."

"And so are you," she says. "A bitch with a kick-ass smile and eyes that can seriously screw with someone's head." She winces, as if the words slipped out and she wants to take them back.

I was expecting her to say a lot of things. Just not that. I notice her eyes. "You're drunk, Quinn."

"Yeah, well you don't look too sober yourself. Maybe now's a good time to give me that kiss you owe me."

"No way."

"Why? Afraid you'll like it so much you'll forget your boyfriend?"

Kiss Quinn? Never. Although I have been thinking about it. A lot. Her lips are full and inviting. Oh boy, she's right. I'm drunk. And I'm definitely not feeling right. I'm past numbness and going towards delirium because I'm thinking things I have no business thinking about. Like how I want to know what her lips feel like against mine.

"Fine. Kiss me, Quinn," I say, stepping forward and leaning into her. "Then we'll be even."

Her hands are braced onto my arms. This is it. I'm about to kiss Quinn and find out what it's like. She's dangerous and she mocks me. But she's sexy and fierce, and beautiful. Being this close to her makes my body shiver in excitement and my head spin. I loop my finger through her belt loop and pull her closer.

"You're gonna be sick," she says to me.

"Am not. I'm… enjoying the ride."

"We're not on a ride."

"Oh," I say, confused. I let go of her jeans and focus on my feet. They look like they're moving off the ground. Floating. "I'm dizzy, that's all. I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"I would be if you'd stop moving."

"I'm not moving. I hate to break it to you but you're about to puke. "

She's right. My stomach won't stop churning. She's holding me up with one hand while her other hand is wound in my hair, keeping it away from my face as I bend over and vomit.

I can't stop my stomach from roiling. I throw up and heave again. Disgusting. But I'm too drunk to care.

"Look at that," I say between puking fits. "My dinner is all over your shoe."


	20. Chapter 20: Quinn

**Chapter 20: Quinn**

I look down at the chunks on my shoe. "eh, I've had worse."

She straightens, so I let her go. I'm trying not to think of how that hair felt as it slid through my fingers like silk, or the way her body felt against mine as I held her up.

Thoughts of stealing her away cross my mind. But she'd be miserable and honestly, we're just two people who hate each other. Okay, so I don't hate her.

I slide my jacket off and hand it to her. "Here, wipe your face off." She looks at me and then at the jacket. I shrug, "I'll wash it later." She takes it from me and wipes the sides of her mouth while I try to clean my shoe.

I don't know what to say or do. I'm alone, and slightly tipsy with a very drunk Rachel Berry. I'm not used to being alone with sloppy drunk straight girls, especially ones who turn me on. I can either take advantage of her and win the bet, which would be an easy win considering her state or…

"Let me get someone to drive you home," I say before my fucked up mind does anything stupid. I'm buzzed and when I have sex with Rachel, I want to be all there.

She purses her lips and pouts. "No, I don't want to go home. Anywhere but home."

Oh, man. I'm in trouble.

She looks at me, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Finn thinks I want you, you know. He says our bickering is foreplay."

"Is it?" I ask, holding my breath to hear her response. Please, let me remember the answer in the morning.

She puts her finger up and says, "Hold that thought."

Then kneels on the ground and pukes her guts out again. When she's finished, she's too weak to walk. I carry her to where my friends are, not knowing what else to do. When she wraps her arms around my neck, I sense she needs someone to save her. No not save her. But, just protect her. Surely, Finn isn't the one. I'm not the one either. I heard her freshman year, before Finn, she dated a junior named Jesse. The girl has got to be experienced.

So why does she look so innocent? Sexy, but innocent as well.

All eyes are on me when I get close to my friends. They see a limp girl in my arms and they immediately think the worst. I didn't mention that during the walk my chem partner decided to fall asleep in my arms.

"What'd you do to her?" Santana asks.

Zizes stands, totally pissed off. "Shit, Quinn. Did I just lose my bike?"

"No dumbass, I don't do passed-out chicks."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Kitty seething. Fuck. I royally screwed her over tonight and deserve her wrath.

I motion for Brittany to talk to me. "Brit, I need you."

Brit takes one look at Rachel. "What do you want me to do with her?"

"Help me get out of here. I'm wasted and can't drive."

Brit shakes her head. "You do know that she has a boyfriend. And she's straight. And Quinn, I love you girl, but you know she deserves better."

Yeah I know that. And I'm sick and tired of being reminded of it. "I need your help Brit. Not a lecture. I've got San giving me her crap already." I sigh, "Please B, I need you."

Brit holds up her hands. "I'm just pointing out some facts. You're a smart girl, Quinn. Add it up. No matter how much you want her, she just doesn't belong in your life. A triangle can't fit into a square. Now I'll shut up."

"Thank you." I don't point out that if the square is big enough, a small triangle can fit inside, perfectly. All you have to do is make a few minor adjustments. But my head hurts too much to explain it.

"I'm parked across the street," Brit says. She let's out a frustrated sigh, "Follow me."

I follow Brittany to her car, hoping we can just walk in silence. No such luck.

"I was in class with her last year, too," Brit says.

"Sweet."

She shrugs. " She's nice, really smart."

I let my mind wander to the girl in my arms. I lay her in the backseat of Brit's car and slide in next to her. She snuggles up to me, using me as a pillow. I close my eyes for a second, pleading with my brain to erase the image of her. And I don't know what to do with my hands. My right one is on the door armrest. My left hovers over Rachel.

I hesitate. Who am I kidding? I'm not a virgin. I've had many girlfriends. I can handle a hot, passed-out girl next to me. Why am I so afraid of putting my arm where it's comfortable, right over her midsection?

I hold my breath as I settle my arm on her. She cuddles closer and I'm feeling light-headed. Either it's the aftereffects from the alcohol I've consumed or… I don't want to think about the "or". Her long hair hangs in front of her face. Without thinking, I weave my hand in her hair ad watch as the silky strands fall slowly through the V's between my fingers. I stop abruptly, noticing the cuts on her arm. I wonder how she got those… I hope... I stop myself from finishing the thought, shaking my head to clear my mind.

Brit backs up the car, Santana stops her and jumps into the front seat. I quickly cover Rachel's arm, not wanting to show anyone her imperfection. I'm not about to analyze my motives for that move, since it'll cause me to think too hard. Thinking hard will hurt badly.

"Hey. I though I'd come along for the ride," San says.

She turns around and sees my arm on Rachel. She shakes her head.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

A cell phone rings. I can feel the vibration through Rachel's pants.

"It's hers," I say, panicking slightly.

"Answer it," Brit instructs.

I already feel like I've kidnapped the girl. Now I'm going to answer her phone? _Shit. _Rolling her a bit, I feel for the lump in her back pocket.

"Hurry," Brit whispers loudly.

"I am," I hiss, my fingers fumbling for the phone.

"I'll do it!" Santana says, leaning over the seats and reaching toward Rachel's ass.

I whack her hand away. "Get your hands off her."

"Jeez. I was only trying to help," she says smirking.

My response is a glare.

I slide my fingers into her back pocket, trying not to think about what it would feel like without her jeans in the way. When I have the phone free, I look at the caller ID.

"It's her friend Kurt."

"Answer it," San says.

"Are you crazy? I'm not talking to him."

"Then why'd you get it out of her pocket?" Santana says, trying to hide her smirk.

I roll my eyes. But it's actually a good question. One I don't know how to answer.

Brittany shakes her head.

"We should take her home," Santana says. "You can't keep her."

I know that. But I'm not ready to give her up just yet. "Brit, take her to your house."


	21. Chapter 21: Rachel

**Chapter 21: Rachel **

I'm having a nightmare that a thousand Oompa Loompas are in my head, hammering my skull. Opening my eyes to bright light, I wince.

"You've got a hangover," a girl says to me.

When I squint, I see Brittany standing over me. We're in what looks like a bedroom with walls painted pastel yellow. I squint up at her. "Where am I?"

"My house. I wouldn't move if I were you. You might puke again and I don't really want to clean it," she says. "Lucky for us, my parents are out of town, so I get the house to myself until tonight."

"How'd I get here?" The last thing I remember was walking…

"You passed out outside a club. Quinn and I brought you here."

At the mention of Quinn, my eyes open fully. I vaguely remember drinking, then walking, and finding Quinn and Kitty together. And then Quinn and I… Did I kiss her? I know I leaned in, but…

I puked. I distinctly remember puking. I sit up slowly, hoping sometime soon my head will stop spinning. "Did I do anything stupid?" I ask.

Brittany shrugs. "I'm not sure. Quinn wouldn't really let anyone get close enough to you. If you want to call passing out in her arms stupid, then yes. Yes, you've managed to do just that."

I drop my head in my hands. "Oh, no. Brittany, please don't tell anyone in glee club."

She's smiling. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone that Rachel Berry is in fact human... and totally not as innocent as she looks."

"Why are you nice to me? I mean, when Kitty wanted to beat me up, you defended me. And you let me sleep here, even though you told me that we're not friends."

"We're not friends. Kitty and I have never really clicked. At this point, I enjoy seeing her pissed off. She can't stand that Quinn isn't her girlfriend anymore."

"Why'd they break up?"

"Ask her yourself. She's sleeping on the couch in the living room. She passed out as soon as she carried you to my bed." Oh. Quinn is here? "She likes you, you know," Brittany says, looking at her fingernails instead of me.

Butterflies start flittering in my stomach. "No she doesn't," I say, even though I'm tempted to ask for details.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh please. You know it, even if you don't want to admit it."

"For someone who says they'll never be friends with me, you sure are in a sharing mood this morning."

"I have to admit that I kind of wish you were the bitch people say you are," she says.

"Why?"

"Because it's easier to hate someone who seems to have it all."

A short laugh escapes from my mouth. I'm not about to tell her the truth- that my life is crumbling around me. "I've got to go home. Where's my cell?" I ask, patting my back pocket.

"Quinn has it… I think."

So sneaking out without talking to her is out of the question. I struggle to keep my head on straight as I stagger out of the bedroom, searching for Quinn.

It's not hard to spot her, she's literally sprawled on the couch like it's a bed. Quinn is nothing, but a sports bra and shorts. She opens her eyes hazily; they're bloodshot and glazed with sleep.

Oh, God. I'm in trouble. Because I'm staring. I can't keep my eyes from ogling her perfect abs and the dip of her sports bra, creating a perfect valley between her breasts. The butterflies in my stomach have just multiplied as my wandering gaze meets hers.

"Hey." I swallow, hard. "I, um, guess I should thank you for taking me here instead of leaving me passed out in town."

Her gaze doesn't falter. "Last night, I realized something. You and I, we're not so different. You play game just like I do. You use your looks, your body, and your brains to make sure you're always in control."

"I'm hungover, Quinn. I can't even think straight and you're getting philosophical on me."

"See… you're playing the game right now. Be real with me. I dare you."

Is she kidding? Be real? I can't. Because then I'll start crying, and maybe freak out enough to blurt out the truth- that I create a perfect image so I can hide behind it. "I better get home."

"Before you do that, you should probably go to the bathroom," she says.

Before I can ask why, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall. "Oh, shit!" I shriek. Black mascara under my eyes, running down my cheeks. I resemble a dead person. Hurrying past her, I find the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is sticking up I places I didn't think possible. I have puffy bags under my eyes, and my eyes are bloodshot from the alcohol. All in all, I'm not a pretty sight.

I wet toilet paper and rub under my eyes until the streaks are gone. After the mascara streaks are unnoticeable, I splash cold water on my face hoping to clear my mind. Then I rinse my mouth with water and rub my teeth with some toothpaste, hoping to get the worst of the night of puking and sleeping and drunkenness from my mouth until I get home.

Squaring my shoulders and keeping my held high, I open the door and walk back to the living room to find Brittany walking to her room and Quinn standing when she sees me.

"Where's my cell phone?" I ask. "And please, put some clothes on."

She reaches down and grabs my phone off the floor. "Why?"

"The reason I need my cell," I say as I take it from her, "is to call a cab and the reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well-um… because..."

"You've never seen a girl with only a bra on?" she says smirking.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I'm a girl, obviously I've seen that. You don't have anything I haven't seen before. You're nothing special."

"Wanna bet?" she says, then moves to take her bra off.

Brittany walks in at that exact moment," Whoa Quinn, Please keep your clothes on. We all know you're confident, but c'mon."

When she looks over at me, I put my hands up. "Don't look at me. I was just about to call a cab when she-"

Shaking her head while Quinn adjusts herself, she walks to her purse and picks up a set of keys. "Forget the cab. I'll drive you."

"_I'll _drive her," Quinn cuts in.

Brittany seems to be exhausted dealing with us, similar to how Mr. Schuester looks during chemistry class. "Would you rather me drive you, or Quinn?" she asks.

I have a boyfriend. Okay, so I admit every time I catch Quinn looking at me a warmth spreads through my body. But it's normal. We're two teenagers with obvious sexual tension passing between us. As long as I never act on it, everything will be just fine.

Because if I ever did act on it, the consequences would be disastrous. I'd lose Finn. I'd lose my friends. I'd lose the little control I have over my life.

"Brittany, take me home please," I say, then look at Quinn.

She gives a small shake of her head, grabs her shirt and keys, and storms out the front door without another word.

I silently follow Brittany to her car.

"You like Quinn more than a friend, don't you?" I ask.

"More like a sister. We've known each other since we were kids."

I give her directions to my house. Is she telling me the truth? "You don't think she's attractive?"

"I've known her since she cried like a baby when her ice cream fell on the street when we were four years old. I was there when, well... just leave it at the fact that we've been through a lot of stuff together."

"Stuff? Want to elaborate?"

"Not with you, sorry."

I could almost see the invisible wall going up between us. "So our friendship ends here?"

She looks at me. "Our friendship just began, Rachel. Don't push it."

We're coming up to my house. "It's the fourth one on the right," I say.

"I know." She stops her car in front of my house. I look at her; she looks at me. Does she expect me to ask her in? I don't even let good friends come into my house.

"Well, thanks for the ride," I say. "And for letting me crash at your place."

Brittany flashes me a weak smile. "No problem."

I cling to the door handle. "I won't let anything happen between me and Quinn. Okay? Even if there's something going on below the surface."

"Good. Because if it does, it's going to blow up in your faces."

In the house, my daddy is sitting at the kitchen table. It's quiet. Too quiet. There are papers in front of him. Brochures or something. He quickly straighten, like little kid caught doing something wrong.

"I… I thought you were st-still… with Kurt," my daddy says. My senses pick up. Hiram Berry never stutters. And he's not commenting on how I look. This can't be good.

"I was, but I got a killer headache," I say, walking forward and focusing on the suspicious brochures my daddy is so interested in.

Lima Heights Home for Special People.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking at options," he says.

"Options? Options! You call sending dad to an elderly home for "special people" an option!?"

He turns to me. "Calm down Rachel. I haven't spoken to your father yet. It's a discussion I've been having with his therapist."

"I'm going to Ohio State next year so I can live at home and help."

"And next year, I'd like you to focus on going to New York and focusing on your Broadway career instead. Rachel, listen," my daddy says, standing. "We have to look into options. After his outburst the other day and his continued-"

"I don't want to hear it," I tell him, cutting him off. "There is absolutely no way I'm letting you put him in some senior home!" I snatch the brochures off the table. My dad needs to be with us, with his family, not some facility with strangers. I tear the brochures in two, toss them into the garbage, and then run to my bedroom.

"Open the door, Rachel," my daddy says, jiggling my bedroom doorknob.

I sit on the edge of my bed, my mind whirling with the image of my dad being sent away. No. It can't happen. The thought makes me sick. "You don't even try. It's like you're giving up before you even tried. You think it'd be easier without him. You're wrong."

"Don't be ridiculous," his voice muffled by the door. "There's a new facility being open, very close to our house. If you'd open the door we can have a civilized discussion about it."

I won't let it happen. I'll do everything in my power to keep him home.

"I don' want to have a civilized discussion. My own father wants to send my other parent to a facility behind my back and behind _his. _Leave me alone, okay?"

I can't help by think about the events of the past few hours. Brittany isn't a friend, yet she helped me. And Quinn, a girl who cared about me last night more than my own boyfriend did, acted as my hero and is urging me to be real. Do I even know how to be real?

I clutch my pillow and I allow myself to cry.


	22. Chapter 22: Quinn

**Chapter 22: Quinn**

She called me. If it weren't for the ripped piece of paper with her name and number scribbled on it by my other, I'd never believe that Rachel actually dialed my number. Asking my mom about it didn't help, the only info I got was that she wanted me to call her back.

That was yesterday afternoon, before she puked her guts out on my shoe and passed out in my arms.

When I told her to be real, I could see the fear in her eyes. I wonder what she's afraid of. Breaking down her walls is going to be my goal. I know there's more to her than her gold stars and killer body. Secrets she'll take to the grave and secrets she's dying to share. She's like a mystery, and all I can think about it solving it.

When I told her we're similar, that wasn't a lie. This connection we have isn't going away; it's only getting stronger. Because the more time I spend with her, the closer I want to be.

I have the urge to call Rachel just to hear her voice, even if it's filled with venom. Flipping my cell as I sit on the sofa, I enter her number from memory.

"Who are you calling?" San asks, barging into my house without knocking. Brit files in behind her.

I click my phone off. "No one."

"Then get off your ass and come play soccer with us."

You never would have guessed looking at her, but Santana loves her some soccer. And honestly, getting out and playing soccer sounds more appealing than sitter here thinking about Rachel. We head to the park where a bunch of our friends are already warming up.

Most of the people playing are from my part of the town. We've grown up with each other, played on the same playground, went to the same schools. Before I became part of Roz's crew, I remember Roz telling me how being apart of something like this was like having a second family; a family who would be there for you when your own family wasn't. It sounded perfect to a kid who'd lost her family the moment her sister died.

Over the years, I've learned to block out the bad stuff. The beatings, the dirty drug deals, and the fights. I'm not just talking about the East Highers either. I know of people who tried getting out, people who were tossed aside like trash, beaten by their own crew, or worse turned into nothing with no options in life. Roz will do that to you.

To be honest, I block it out because it scares the shit out of me. I'm supposed to be tough enough to not care, but I do.

We take our positions on the field. There are a lot of good players on each team. The other side has an advantage because we have Brittany as our goalie, who is currently sitting down looking bored.

"Brit, get up! C'mon!" Zizes yells.

Brittany's answer is making a huge dramatic yawn as the other team shoots the ball right past her and scores.

Santana laughs while looking at Brittany. I swear, those two are destined for each other. They're just too dumb to see it. Brit tosses the ball to Zizes, who passes to Santana. San brings the ball downfield. She passes it to me and I dribble down the field, pausing only to gauge how far I have to go before I kick it into the goal.

Faking left, I pass to Zizes and she passes it back. With one swift kick, the ball soars right and we've scored.

"Goalllllllll," our team sings as Zizes slaps my ass.

Our celebration is short-lived, though. A blue Mustang is creeping suspiciously down the street.

"Recognize it?" Zizes asks, tensing.

The game stops once everyone realizes the tension in the air. "Maybe retaliation," I say.

My eyes never leave the car window. When the car stops, we're all waiting for a glimpse of someone or something to emerge from the car. When it does, we'll be ready.

But I'm not. My cousin Sam steps out of the car with Roz. You know it's bad too. Roz tends to recruit new members, but usually strays away from family members. My cousin better not be a recruit. I've worked hard to make sure that every member in Roz's crew knows my name. I'm here so no other Fabray has to be. If one family member is in, the rest are protected.

I put my game face on and walk over to Roz. "New car?" I ask her, eyeing the new wheels.

"It's a loaner."

"Nice." I turn to Sam. "What are you doing around here?"

Sam leans against the car, as if hanging with Roz is no big deal. "You know my family's been in the deep end, Q. Roz is just helping me out. No biggie." He's so stupid; sometimes I wonder how many times he'd been dropped on his head when he was a baby. I swear I'll drop kick him if he even thinks about joining Roz.

"Fabray, you in or you out?" someone yells from the field.

Keeping my anger hidden, I turn to my cousin. "Want to play?"

"No thanks, Roz is setting me up with something," Sam says.

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, not feeling the least bit nonchalant. I fucking care.

I walk to the field, even if I have the urge to grab Sam and smack him upside the head. I can't afford to cause a scene; I can't have Roz question my loyalty. Sometimes I feel my life is one big lie.

Sam leaves with Roz. That, combined with the fact that I can't get Rachel out of my mind, is driving me nuts. On the field, when the game starts back up, I'm restless. Suddenly, it's like the players on the other team aren't friends, but enemies in the way of everything I want. I charge at the ball.

"Foul!" Meg yells at me when I slam into him.

I put up my hands. "That was _not _a foul."

"You pushed me."

"Don't be a wuss," I say, knowing I'm blowing it way out of proportion.

I want to get in a fight. I'm asking for it. She knows it. My adrenaline is running high.

"You want a piece of me, _bitch?" _she says, stepping closer to me.

I roll my eyes. God, this girl is a fucking pansy. "Come and get it."

Santana runs in between us. "Quinn, cool down. It's just a game."

"She said I fouled her," I tell San.

Santana shrugs, "you did."

Okay, now when my own best friend doesn't back me up, I know I've lost it. I look around. Everyone is waiting to see what I'm going to do. Do I want to fight? Yeah I do. I need to get this energy out of my body. And to forget, even for a minute, that I have my chem partner's number stored in my brain waiting to be dialed. And my cousin is on Roz's radar to be recruited.

San shoves me away from the other girl wanting to rip my head off. She calls out for subs to take our place in the game.

"What'd you do that for?" I ask.

"To save your ass. Quinn, you've completely lost it."

Santana stares straight at me and says, "You're acting like a little bitch."

I shrug her hands off me and stalk off not knowing how, in the matter of a few weeks, I've gotten my life screwed up so badly. I need to fix it. I'll deal with Sam when I seem him next time. He's going to get an earful from me. And Rachel…

She didn't want me to drive her home from Brit's house because she didn't want to be seen with me. Fuck that. Sam isn't the only one who deserves and earful from me.

I flip open my cell and call Rachel.

"Hello?"

"It's Quinn," I tell her. "Meet me at the library. Now."

"I can't."

This is not the Rachel Berry show. "Here's the deal," I say as I reach my house and jump into my car. "You either show up at the library in fifteen minutes or I'm bringing five friends to your house and we're camping out on your front lawn tonight."

"How dare you-" she starts to say, but I hang up before she can finish her sentence.

As I rev my engine, I realize I don't have a game plan.


	23. Chapter 23: Rachel

**Chapter 23: Rachel**

I'm so angry as I pull in the library parking lot and park next to the woods at the far end of the lot. The last thing on my mind is our chemistry project.

Quinn is waiting for me, leaning against her car. I take the keys out of the ignition and storm over to her. "How dare you order me around!" I yell. My entire life is full of people trying to control me. Hiram, Finn, and now Quinn. I'm done with it. "If you think you can threaten me into-"

Without saying anything Quinn snatches my keys out of my hand and sits in the driver's seat of my car.

"What are you doing?"

"Get in."

The engine roars. She's going to drive off and leave me stranded in the library parking lot.

Clenching my fists, I stomp to the passenger side. When I'm in, Quinn revs my engine.

"Where's my picture of Finn?" I ask, eyeing my dashboard. It was there a minute ago.

"Don't worry. You'll get it back. I don't have the stomach to look at it while I'm driving."

"Do you even know how to drive stick?" I bark out.

Without blinking or looking down, she puts the car into first gear and the car screeches out of the lot. My car follows her lead as if the car and Quinn are one.

"This is carjacking, you know." Silence. "And kidnapping," I add.

We're stopped at a light. "Babe, you got in on your own free will," she says.

"It's _my _car. What if someone sees us?"

I've clearly pissed her off because my tires screech angrily when the light turns green. She is purposely destroying my car.

"Stop it!" I order. "Take me back to the library."

But she doesn't. She's silent as she winds my car through unknown towns and deserted roads. Great. She's probably taking me to my first drug deal. If I get arrested, will my parents come bail me out? I bet my daddy will send me to some military boot camp for delinquents. He's making a habit out of sending people off.

My life would suck even more.

I will not be apart of anything illegal. I am the ruler of my own destiny. I grab the handle to the door. "Let me out or I swear, I'll jump."

"You're wearing a seatbelt." She says, rolling her eyes. "Relax, we'll be there in two minutes." She shifts the car into a lower gear and slows down as we enter an old deserted airport. "Okay, we're here," she says as she pulls up the parking brake.

"Yeah, okay… But where is here? I'm not getting out of the car if this is a drug deal."

"As if I'd take you to a drug deal. Get out of the car."

"Give me one good reason why I should?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to drag you out. Trust me."

She puts my keys in her back pocket and steps out of my car. Seeing no other option, I follow her. "Listen, if you wanted to discuss our hand warmers we could have done it over the phone."

She meets me around the back of my car. We're standing, toe to toe, in the middle of nowhere.

There's been something nagging me all day. As long as I'm here, I might as well ask her. "Did we kiss last night?"

"Yes."

"Well, it wasn't memorable because I have no recollection of it."

She laughs. "I was kidding. We didn't kiss." She leans in. "When we kiss, you'll remember it. Forever."

Damn it. I wish her words didn't leave my knees weak. I know I should be scared, alone with a Cheerio in a deserted place talking about kissing. But I'm not. Deep down, I know she wouldn't intentionally hurt me or force me to do anything.

"Why did you kidnap me?" I ask.

She grabs my hand and leads me to the driver's side. "Get in."

"Why?"

"I'm teaching you how to drive this car properly, before the engine falls out from the abuse."

"I thought you were mad at me. Why are you helping me?"

"Because, I want to."

Oh. I wasn't expecting that. My heart is starting to thaw because it's been a long time since someone cared enough to do something just to help me. Wait… "This isn't because you want me to pay you back with favors, is it?"

She shakes her head.

"For real?"

"For real."

"And you're not mad at me because of anything I said or did?"

"I'm frustrated, Rachel. About you. About my cousin. About a lot of shit."

"Then why take me here?"

"Don't ask questions you're not ready to hear the answer to, okay?"

"Okay." I slide into the driver's seat and wait for her to sit beside me.

"You ready?" she asks, buckling herself in.

"Yup."

She leans over and puts the car in the ignition. When I release the parking brake and start the car, it dies.

"You didn't put it in neutral. If you don't have your foot on the clutch, it's going to die if you're in gear."

"I knew that," I say, feeling stupid. "You're just making me nervous."

She puts the stick into neutral for me. "Put your left foot on the clutch, your right foot on the brake, and go into first," she instructs.

Putting my foot on the gas and letting up on the clutch, the car jerks forward.

She braces herself with her hands on the dash. "Stop."

I stop the car and put it in neutral.

"You've got to find the sweet spot."

I look at her, "The sweet spot?"

"Yeah. You know, when the clutch catches." She's using her hands when she talks, pretending her hands are the pedals. "You release it too fast. Get that balance and stay there, feel it out. Try it again."

I put the car if first again and let up on the clutch as I press the gas.

"Hold it…," she says. "Feel the sweet spot. Linger there."

I let out the clutch and hold down the gas pedal but don't push down on it all the way. "I think I got it."

"Le go of the clutch now, but don't gun the gas."

I try, but the car jerks, then stalls.

"You popped the clutch. Don't release the clutch too fast. Try again," she says, totally unfazed. She's not upset or even frustrated. "You needed to give it more gas. Don't gun it, but give it enough love to start moving."

I do the same steps, but this time the car moves forward without jerking. We're on the runway, moving up to ten miles an hour.

"Press in the clutch," she instructs, then puts her hands over mine on the stick and helps me shift into second. I try to ignore her gentle touch and the warmth of her hand, attempting to focus on the task.

She's patient as she instructs in detail how to downshift until we've come to a stop at the end of the runway. Her fingers are still wrapped around mine.

"Lesson over?" I ask.

Quinn clears her throat. "Um, yeah." She takes her hand off mine, then weaves her fingers through her hair, strands falling loosely across her forehead.

"Thanks," I say.

"Yeah, well my ears were bleeding every time I heard your engine rev in the school parking lot. I didn't do it to be nice."

I cock my head to the side and try to get her to look at me. She doesn't. "Why is it so important that you're perceived as such a mean person? Why the tough as nails persona? Tell me."


	24. Chapter 24: Quinn

**Chapter 24: Quinn**

For the first time we're having a civilized conversation. Now I've got to come up with something to break that defensive wall of hers.

Damn. I need to reveal something that makes me vulnerable. If she sees me vulnerable instead of an asshole, maybe I can make some headway with her. And somehow I know she'll be able to tell if I'm bullshitting.

I'm not sure if I'm doing this for the bet, for the chemistry project, or for me. I'm totally cool with _not _analyzing whatever is happening here.

"My sister got murdered in front of me when I was thirteen," I tell her.

Her eyes go wide. "Really… I thought that was just a rumor…" She glances at her hands, clearly uncomfortable. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry… that must've been horrible."

"Yup." It feels good to let it out, to make myself talk about it out loud. My sisters nervous smile turning into shock right before she was shot.

Wow… I can't believe I remembered the expression on her face. Why would she be shocked? Shouldn't it have been fear? That detail was totally forgotten until now. I'm still confused as I turn to Rachel. "If I care too much about shit and it's taken away, I'll feel the way I did when my sister died. I never want to feel that again, so instead I make myself not care about anything."

Her face is full of regret, sorrow, and sympathy. I can tell it's not an act.

Her brow furrows when she says, "Thanks for telling me. But I can't imagine you can actually make yourself care about nothing. That seems impossible."

"Want to bet?" Suddenly I'm desperate to change the subject. "Your turn to share."

She looks away. I don't push her to say anything for fear she'll come to her senses and want to leave.

Could it be harder for her to share even a glimpse into her world? My life has been so fucked up, it's hard to believe her life could possible be any worse. I watch as a lone tear escapes from her eye and she quickly wipes it away.

"My dad-," she starts. "My dad got in a car accident and was left paralyzed from the waist down. And for the past few weeks, he's gone mute and won't talk to me…" With that, another tear escapes. This time she lets it fall. I have the urge to wipe them for her but sense she needs to be left untouched. She takes a deep breath. "And he's been angry about something, but I don't know what because he won't talk to me. He got so angry about it that he broke all our dishes in the kitchen and shattered the lights above us and my arms were bleeding and my other dad was freaking out on me."

So that's where the mysterious scratches came from. Not from self-harm.

For the first time, I feel sorry for her. I imagined her life as a fairy tale; the worst thing that could possibly happen would be a pea under her mattress keeping her up at night.

I guess I was wrong.

Something is happening. I sense a change… a mutual understanding of each other. I haven't felt this way in forever. I clear my throat, and then say, "your dad probably blows up at you because he knows you can take it."

"Yeah… You're probably right. Better me than my dad."

"It's no excuse though." I'm being real now and I hope she is too. "Listen, I don't want to be an asshole to you," I say.

"I know. It's your image, what Quinn Fabray is all about. It's your logo… dangerous, deadly, hot, and sexy Cheerio. I wrote the book on creating an image. I wasn't exactly aiming for the diva look, though. More like, untouchable look."

Woah. Rewind. Rachel just called me hot and sexy. I was not expecting that. Maybe I actually have a chance to win that stupid bet after all. "You do realize you called me hot."

"As if you didn't know," she says, rolling her eyes.

"For the record, I thought you were untouchable. But now that I know you think I'm hot, sexy, Cheerleader goddess…"

Her eyebrow quirks up, "I never said goddess."

I put my finger to my lips. "Shh, let me enjoy the fantasy for one minute." I close my eyes. Rachel laughs, this sweet sound that echoes in my ears.

"In some deranged way, Quinn, I think I understand you. Although I'm really pissed off at you for being such a tool." When I open my eyes, I find her watching me. "Don't tell anyone about my dad," she says. "I don't like people knowing."

"We're actors in our lives, pretending to be who we think others want of us."

"So you get why I'd freak out if my daddy finds out we're… friends?"

"You'd get in trouble? Aren't you eighteen? Don't you think you can be friends with who you want by now?"

"You don't understand."

"Try me."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Aren't chem partners supposed to know a lot about each other?"

She gives a short laugh. "I hope not."

Truth is, this girl isn't what I thought she'd be. From the moment I told her about my sister, it was as if her entire body sighed in relief. As if someone else's misery comforted her, made her feel like she wasn't alone. I still can't understand why she cares so much, why choose the 'I am flawless' façade?

Looming over my head is the bet. I have to get this girl to call for me. And while my body says 'go for it,' the rest of me is thinking 'you're a complete asshole because she's vulnerable.'

"I want the same things out of life you do," I admit. "I just go about them in a different way. You adapt to your environment and I adapt to mine." I put my hand back on hers. "Let me show you I'm different. Would you ever date a girl who doesn't have her shit together?"

"Absolutely." She slips her hand out from under mine. "But I'm in a relationship."

"If you didn't, would you give me a chance?"

Her face turns a deep shade of pink. I wonder if Finn ever makes her blush like that. "I'm not answering that," she says.

"Why not? It's a simple question."

Oh, please. Nothing is simple with you." She puts the car in first gear. "Can we go now?"

"If you want. We cool?"

"I think so."

I hold out my hand for her to shake. She eyes me cautiously, then extends her hand towards mine and shakes it, her enthusiasm apparent. "To hand warmers," she says with a smile.

"To hand warmers," I agree. And _sex, _I add silently.

"Do you want to drive back? I don't know the way."

I drive us back in comfortable silence while the sun sets. Our truce brings me closer to my goals: graduating, the bet… and something else I'm not ready to admit.

As I pull her car into the dark library parking lot, I say, "Thanks for letting me kidnap you. I guess I'll see you around." Taking my keys out of my front pocket. I step out of her car; I pull out Finn's picture from my back pocket and toss it on the seat.

"Wait!" Rachel calls out as I'm walking away.

I turn around and she's right in front of me. "What?"

She smile seductively as if she's wanting something more than a truce. Way more. _Shit. _Is she going to kiss me? I'm taken off guard, which never happens. She bites her bottom lip, as if she's contemplating her next move. I'm totally game to make out with her. As my brain goes through every scenario, she steps closer.

And snatches my keys out of my hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask her.

"Getting you back for kidnapping me." She steps back and with all her strength whips my keys into the woods.

"You did _not _just do that."

She backs up, facing me the entire time, as she moves towards her car. "No hard feelings. Payback is a bitch, ain't it Quinn?" she says, trying to keep a straight face.

I watch in shock as my chem partner gets into her car. The car drives out of the lot without a jolt, jerk, or hitch. Flawless start.

I'm pissed off because I'm going to have to either crawl around in the dark woods to find my keys or call Santana to pick me up.

I'm also amused. I can't help the small cross my face. Rachel Berry bested me at my own game. _Again. _


	25. Authors Note

Hey Readers! I'm so sorry for neglecting this story but I just kind of lost motivation for it. However, I will be finishing it. It'll just take me longer than expected. Again I apologize.

But bonus is that you all should look for a new chapter within the next week or so. Yay! :]

Love you guys, thanks so much for reading and being invested. I promise I'll finish it.

xoxo


	26. Chapter 25: Rachel

**Chapter 25: Rachel**

The sound of my father's heavy breathing beside me is the first thing I hear as the early morning sunlight pours into the living room. I'd noticed my dad crying in the living room and sat near him for hours, waiting for his breathing to even out before drifting off.

When I was little, I would hurry to my parent's room whenever there was a thunderstorm. Not to comfort me, but to comfort my dad's. I would hold onto LeRoy's hand and somehow my worries would all fade away and I could see my dad visibly relax.

Watching my dad sleep soundly, I can't believe daddy wants to send him away. Dad is a big part of who I am; the thought of living without him seems so… wrong. Sometimes I feel dad and I are connected in a way few people understand. Even when daddy can't figure out what dad is thinking or why he's so upset, I usually know.

That's why it devastated me when my dad refused to talk to me. I never really though he'd shut me out too.

But he did.

"I won't let daddy take you away," I say softly to my sleeping father. "I'll always protect you."

I ease myself off the couch. There is no way I can spent time with him without him suspecting I'm upset. So head towards my bedroom, get dressed, and leave the house before he wakes up.

I confided in Quinn yesterday and the world still seems intact. I actually felt better after telling her about LeRoy. If I can do it with Quinn, surely I can try it with Kurt and Mercedes.

As I sit in front of Kurt's house in my car, my thoughts turn to life.

Nothing is going right. Senior year is suppose to be a blast; easy and fun. So far it's been anything but. Finn is pressuring me, a girl part of some sketch drug gang is more than my chemistry partner, and my daddy is going to send my dad away. What else can go wrong?

I notice movement coming from Kurt's second-story window. First legs, then a butt. Oh, God. It's Blaine Anderson trying to jump to the tree.

Blaine must see me, because Kurt's head pops out of the window. He waves and motions for me to wait.

Blaine's foot still hasn't reached the branch. Kurt is holding onto his hands to steady him. Blaine finally reaches the tree, but he slips and falls, flinging his body in all directions. He's fine, though, I realize after he gives Kurt a thumbs-up before jogging off.

I wonder if Finn would climb trees for me.

Kurt's front door opens a few minutes later and he steps out. "Rach, what are you doing here? It's seven o'clock in. the. Morning. You do realize that it's a teacher in-service and we have no school."

"I know, but my life is spinning out of control."

"Come inside and we'll talk," he says, opening my car door.

Inside, I take off my shoes so I won't wake up his dad.

"Don't worry, he left for work an hour ago."

"Then why was Blaine escaping out your window?"

Kurt winks. "You know, to keep the relationship exciting."

I follow Kurt into his bedroom. I plunk myself down on his bed as Kurt calls Mercedes. "Cedes, come over. Rachel's in crisis mode."

Mercedes, in her pj's and slippers, arrives ten minutes later since she only lives five houses down.

"Okay, spill," Kurt demands when we're all together.

Suddenly, with all eyes on me, I'm not so sure this sharing thing is such a good idea. "It's not really anything."

Mercedes straightens. "Listen, Rach. You got me out of bed at seven a.m. Dish the dirt."

"Yeah," Kurt says, "we're your friends. If you can't share with your friends, who can you share with?"

Quinn Fabray. But I'd never tell them that.

"Why don't we watch Funny Girl," Kurt suggests. "If Barbra herself doesn't get you to spill her guts, nothing will."

Mercedes groans. "I can't believe you got me up for a noncrisis and Streisand. You guys seriously need to get a life. The least you can do is give me gossip. Anyone have any?"

Kurt leads us to the living room and we all sink into the cushions on the sofa. "I heard Puckerman was found kissing someone in the janitors closet on Tuesday."

"Booooring," Mercedes drawls out, totally unimpressed.

"Did I mention it was Shelby Corcoran?"

"_Now _that is good gossip, Kurt."

Is that how it's gong to be if I share anything, turning my misery into gossip for everyone to laugh about?

In Kurt's living room four hours, two movies, popcorn, and a tub of vegan ice cream later, I'm feeling better. Maybe it was Barbra, but somehow I think everything is possible. Which makes me think about…

"What do you guys think of Quinn Fabray?" I ask.

Kurt pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, " I say, unable to stop thinking about the intense, undeniable attraction that is always between us. "She's my chemistry partner."

"And…?" Kurt urges, waving his hand in the air as if saying 'so what's the point?'

I grab the remote control and pause the movie. "She's hot. Admit it."

"Ew, Rachel," Mercedes says, pretending to stick her finger down her throat and gagging.

Kurt says, "Okay, so I'll admit. She does look like our generation Grace Kelly. But she's not someone I'd associate with. She's like, you know… a druggy."

"Half the time she comes to school high," Mercedes chimes in.

"I sit right next to her, Cedes, and I've never noticed her high in school."

"Are you kidding Rachel? Quinn does drugs before school, and in the bathroom when she ditches study hall. And I'm not just talking about pot. She's into the hard stuff too," Mercedes states like it's a fact.

"Have you seen her do drugs?" I challenge.

"Listen, Rachel. I don't have to be in the room with her to know that she snorts or shoots up. Quinn is dangerous. Besides people like us don't mix with people like them."

I lean back into the couch. "Yeah, I know."

"Finn loves you," Kurt says changing the subject.

Love. I scoff. But I stay silent; I don't even want to go there with them.

Three times my daddy tries to contact me. First on my cell, although turning it off didn't deter him because he called Kurt's house twice.

"Hiram is coming over if you don't talk to him," Kurt says, the phone dangling from his fingers.

"If he does, I'm leaving."

Kurt hands me the phone. "Me and Cedes are going outside so you can have some privacy. I don't know what this is all about, but talk to him."

I hold the phone to my ear. "Hello, father."

"Listen, Rachel, I know you're upset. I finalized the plans about your dad last night. I know it's hard on you, but he's been more and more frustrated lately."

"Daddy, he's forty seven and is angry about being stuck in a chair for the past few months. Don't you think that's normal for him to be frustrated?"

"You're going to New York next year. It's not fair to keep him here anymore. Stop being selfish."

How is daddy being sent away because I'm going to college _my _fault? "You're going to do this no matter how I feel about it, aren't you?"

"Yes. It's a done deal."


	27. Chapter 26: Quinn

**Chapter 26: Quinn**

When Rachel walks into Mr. Schue's class on Friday I'm thinking about how I'm going to get her back for throwing my keys into the woods last weekend. It took me forty-five minutes to find those suckers, and all the while I was cursing Rachel. Okay, so I give her props for dishing it out. I also have to thank her for helping me talk about the night Frannie died. Because of it, I've called some of older Cheerios, asking them if they know who might have had a grudge against my sister.

Rachel has been wary this whole week. She's waiting for me to play a joke on her, to get back at her for tossing my keys. After school, as I'm at my locker picking books to take home, she storms up to me wearing her sinfully short skirt that shows off her perfectly sculpted legs.

"Meet me in the locker room," she orders.

Now I can do two things; meet her like she told me or leave the school. I take my books and enter the locker room. Rachel is standing, holding out her keychain without keys dangling from it.

"Where are my keys?" she asks. "I'm going to be late for my dance lesson if you don't tell me."

"I tossed them somewhere. You know, you should really get a purse that has a zipper. You never know when someone will reach in and grab something."

"Glad to know you're a klepto. Want to give me a hint as to where you've hidden them?"

I lean against the locker, thinking about what people would think if they caught us in here together. "It's in a place that's wet. Really. Really, wet." I say.

"The pool?"

I nod. Man, this girl doesn't skip a beat. "Creative, huh?"

She tries to push me into the wall. "I'm going to kill you. You better go get them."

If I didn't know better, I'd think she was flirting with me. I think she likes this game we have going on. "Babe, you should know me better than that. You're on your own, like I was when you left me in the library parking lot."

She cocks her head, gives me sad eyes, and pouts. I shouldn't concentrate on her pouty lips, it's dangerous. But I can't help it.

"Show me where they are, Quinn. _Please."_

I let her sweat it out for a minute before I give in. By now most of the school is deserted. We walk to the pool. The lights are off, but sunlight is still shining through the windows. Rachel's keys are where I threw them; in the middle of the deep end. I point to the shiny pieces of silver under the water. "There they are. Have at it."

Rachel stands with her hands on her short skirt, contemplating how she's going to get them. She struts over to the long stick hanging on the wall that's used to pull drowning people from the water. "Piece of cake," she tells me.

But as she sticks the pole into the water, she finds out it's not as easy as she thought. I suppress a laugh as I stand at the edge of the pool and watch her attempt the impossible.

"You can always strip and go in naked. I'll watch to make sure nobody comes in."

She walks up to me, the pole gripped firmly in her fingers. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?

"Uh, duh," I say, stating the obvious. "I have to warn you though, if you have granny panties on, you'll blow my fantasy."

"For your information they're pink satin. As long as we're sharing personal information, are you a thongs or boy shorts kind of girl?"

"Neither," I smirk. Okay, I don't actually go commando. She'll just have to figure that out herself.

"Gross, Quinn."

"Don't knock it, till you try it," I tell her, then walk toward the door.

"You're leaving?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Aren't you going to help me?"

"Uh… nope." If I stay, I'll be tempted to ask her to ditch dance class to be with me. I'm definitely not ready to hear the answer to that question. Toying with her I can handle. Showing my true colors like I did the other day, I'm not about to do that again. I push the door open after taking one last glance at Rachel, wondering if leaving her right now makes me an idiot, a jerk, a coward, or all of the above.

At home, when I'm far away from Rachel and her car keys, I look for my cousin. Sam promised me that he'd stop by my place after school. I knew that I had to talk with him before he got in way to deep.

I find Sam in my room, in the process of shoving something in the back of his pants.

"What was that?" I ask.

He sits on my bed with his arm crossed. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Sam." I pull him up and reach around and grab whatever it is he hid. Sure enough, a shiny .25 Beretta is staring back at me. "Where'd you get this?"

"None of your business."

This is the first time in my life I've seriously wanted to scare the shit out of my cousin. I'm itching to stick that gun in between his eyes and show him what it's like to be with Roz, to feel threatened and unsure of everything. "You're family, Sam. But don't think I won't knock some sense into you."

Sam attempts to reach for it but I push him back on the bed.

"C'mon Quinn," he whines.

"Don't. You're going to get out of here Sam. You have something. Go do something with this life. You have the chance, so take it."

"You think you can plan out my entire life, don't you?" Sam spits out. "well I've got my own plan."

"It better have nothing to do with Roz."

Sam is silent.

I think I've already lost him and my body tenses up. I can prevent Sam from becoming involved, but only if he's willing to let me intervene. I look at the picture of Sam and Sugar on my desk. He met her last summer in Chicago. Ever since they met, he's been obsessed with her. They talk on the phone constantly. She's sweet, innocent, and when she eyed me when Sam introduced us she got scared. Her eyes darted around and she backed away, hoping to escape.

"You think Sugar will want to date you if you become like me?" I ask.

No response, which is good. He's thinking.

"She'll dump you if she ever found out."

Sam's gaze wanders to the picture of them on the desk.

"Sam, ask her where she's going to college. I'll bet she has a plan. If you want the same plan, it's doable."

My cousin looks at me. He's fighting a war within himself, choosing between what he knows will be easy or the harder things in life, like being with Sugar.

"Stop hanging around Roz and them. Find new friends, and join a club or something. Let me take care of everything." I grab the gun and stuff it in my jacket pocket and start towards the door.

I stop at the door and look at him. "You have something Sam. Something I don't."


End file.
